The Torn Prince
by Mogitz
Summary: The events that happened during Frozen but from Hans' point of view. And then, after the fiasco in Arendelle, Hans returns home to await his trial. When a very ill Anna arrives to testify, will it help him evade his punishment or lead him to the hangman's noose? COMPLETE. Follow up the sequel: The Torn Prince II: Return to Arendelle!
1. Prologue

**A/N:**

**This fiction was inspired by a recent article I encountered that stated that Hans was not initially meant to be a villain, which ultimately led to his twist at the end being so unexpected. This is my version of Frozen, as shown from Hans' perspective. Ultimately I am planning on this fiction favoring Anna and Hans as a coupling, as well as a good explanation for why he betrayed her so badly. Forgive me, for this chapter holds a lot of back-story in the beginning of Hans and his brothers of the Southern Isles, but it is important to the plot throughout the story.**

**Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!**

**UPDATE: The first 7 chapters parallel the movie, to begin the sequel (Part II) skip to Chapter 8, The King is Dead.  
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_Prologue:_

**Let Him Go**

Candles adorned the massive, dark mahogany table that was set for fourteen. Tapestries of green and gold graced the walls, dressing the room in elegance and poise. The family crest was a repeating theme throughout the grand dining room: A green shield, guarded by two chained wolves and Latin banners that read "Fortem Posce Animum" or "Wish for a Strong Mind."

Eleven brothers sat, awaiting their father, King Elias, to meet them; he had news to share. They were all of varying ages and physical appearances, although sharing a similarity that proved their relation. They waited patiently, quietly, eyes studying one another and making silent judgments. Although they were quite accustomed to this kind of cruel behavior, this wasn't just an ordinary dinner. Significant others were shut out, taking their dinners in another wing of the castle. This was a confidential meeting, one to discuss the Southern Isles and broadening its borders, by any means necessary.

Over the years, trade between Arendelle and the Southern Isles had been steady, cordial. But with the recent news of Princess Elsa's coronation under way, it was time to finish what had been started many years ago.

The eleven men were startled from the loud boom of the dining room doors opening with some force. Their eyes were fixated on the proud, bearded king as he stalked into the room without a word. He stood, towering and almost menacing over the princes. They stood out of respect, and possibly fear, waiting for their father to take his seat. He cleared his throat and ran his gloved hand over his mustached mouth, his eyes narrowing.

"Where is Hans?" his deep voice bellowed. The sons looked around in confusion, unaware that the youngest prince was even absent. Although, this was nothing new. Hans was frequently forgotten.

On cue, the door to the dining hall opened once again, and Hans peered into the room nervously.

"Get in here. You're tardy," King Elias said gruffly, he had no patience for any delays.

"I-I'm sorry father. I just-"

"I do not have time for your excuses. Be seated," he said, slightly reddening. Hans shrunk under his brother's glaring eyes, hurrying to his seat. For one of the millionth times, he wished he was actually invisible, as opposed to how his father and brothers had treated him. At least then they would have an excuse. The great king and his sons were seated.

"We have received word from Arendelle," he informed the group. "We are to send a royal representative to attend Princess Elsa's coronation."

"Has the time come already?" the eldest son, Prince Elias III, asked. He was much older than Hans, who had only just passed his 23rd year.

"Aye," the King nodded. "Princess Elsa was to marry by her 21st year, to ensure the Southern Isles would have an heir married into Arendelle. As you know, we have been trying to get our betrothal negotiations back on track that were ceased after the passing of King Agdar and Queen Idun of Arendelle."

"But father," one of the sons spoke, Prince Galen. "Who will it be? Felix is surely best suited for rulership of Arendelle and closest to her age, but he is married to Adelaide."

"I am aware that Felix was the first choice, that had been agreed upon many years ago between both kingdoms. But with the passing of the King and Queen, those plans and promises went along with them. We no longer have contracts and treaties, we are no longer ushered in freely. Their will stated that the princesses were to have free will, which means she must be courted if we will see any union of families. That is what tonight it about."

The room fell silent as the princes took in the information. One of them would be sent to Arendelle to take the crown, but who? Their ages, statuses and demeanor varied so vastly that there was no solid choice.

Long ago, long before Hans was even born, King Elias took over the throne as the king of the Southern Isles. Humid in temperature, a mostly mild climate, this land was lush and bountiful. Through their various trade connections and allies, the people of the Southern Isles lived quant, fulfilling lives.

Through a forced marriage that eventually led to love and devotion, King Elias wed Princess Astrid, who became his queen. She was fair and loyal, lovely and kind. She spent most of her years as queen with child, bearing the king twelve healthy sons.

First born was the strong and stubborn Elias III. He was heir to the thrown and had never had to work hard to gain his father's favor. He was married to Princess Giana, who would take her place as queen when King Elias inevitably passed away.

Next was Frederik and Galen, who weren't twins but might as well have been. The brothers bore a striking resemblance and were born only ten months apart from one another. Prince Frederik was a self-proclaimed bachelor, more interested in scholarly pursuits while Prince Galen married quite young: a duchess from a neighboring kingdom and bore him two princesses of their own.

Prince Andreas was fourth born, but had perished of illness only three years back, and Prince Edvard (fifth to the throne) had become a monk at the kingdom's Lutheran cathedral, but never revoked his title. He sat there with them today, his humble cloak a far cry from their more lavish attires.

Prince Tomas and Prince Christian were twins, mostly drunkards, unwed and up to no real value to the royal family, but were still over ten years Elsa's senior. The likelihood of her choosing to marry one of them was slim. Next, however, was Prince Isaak, who was a well-known Lothario of the Isle Kingdoms. He had successfully wooed, seduced and ruined countless princesses, duchesses, maidens and bar wenches alike.

Cold-hearted and calculating, Prince Sedak was the 9th born. Prone to jealousy and a ravenous temper, he was the one who had done most of Hans' torturing as he grew up. Deeply resentful of the youngest prince, it was he that initiated a two-year long coup that led to Hans being ignored and forgotten, finding humor and satisfaction at his expense. Those two years took an amazingly harsh psychological toll on Prince Hans, who withdrew but began doing desperate actions to get some form of attention from his brothers. And yet, it was the same twisted prince that Hans so desperately looked up, hoping to rid himself of any vulnerability and weakness by striving to be him, the way a captive is devoted to their captor.

The king's second set of twins were much more successful than the first, Prince Magnus and Prince Mathias. Magus was married to the military, Admiral of the Fleet of the Southern Isles Navy. Hans, too, was a Navy officer under his brother. He had earned his title of Admiral Prince Hans, which he had hoped would make his father proud of him, to no avail. Mathias, on the other hand, was a poet and lover, engaged to the fair Princess Agnus of the West Cannes, their wedding was due sometime in the spring.

Felix, the last born son of King Elias and Queen Astrid, was a handsome, strong and brave prince. In all the years, he'd been the king's quiet favorite, his last born son of his precious queen. Felix was the chosen suitor for Princess Elsa of Arendelle when they were quite young. Unfortunately, Felix found love with Queen Adelaide of the Kingdom of Romany, and spent his current days ruling beside her as king.

After Felix was born, the queen fell ill, and passed away. The devastation that the king and princes felt led to an irreparable emotional damage, a dark shadow cast upon them. Over time, they had forgotten her love and warmth, replaced with a bitterness deep down, a sadness that changed them. When the king's political advisor, Lars, suggested the king marry the young wealthy daughter of a duke from a neighboring kingdom, he reluctantly took his advice. With no plans to have any more children, they soon found they were with child once more. The king hoped for a princess, some kind of light to shine in on this darkened family, a vulnerable one for the princes to adore and protect.

But again, it was another prince. Prince Hans was born, and instead of love and protection, he received bitterness and rejection from all of his family.

All, that is, except for his loving mother, Ava.

While most of the boys took after their father, broad and dark haired, Hans bore a striking resemblance to his lovely mother. She was slimmer, more frail. Her green eyes were piercing and her auburn hair shined like amber in the sunlight. The good in Hans, the part that always tried to override the anger, the hurt and the betrayal of his own family, didn't always win out. He acted out frequently as a young child, out of frustration and neglect. He had found her to be his protector, the one he could go to when no one else was there. She would calm the king when she felt he was being to hard on the youngest prince. This, however, led to feelings of favoritism that just made the other princes even more resentful of the youngest prince.

When Hans was little, six years old, his mother held him in her arms one night when the tears wouldn't stop. Sedak, Mathius and Magnus, the troublesome trio, had spent the evening berating him for not being of pure, royal blood as they were.

"Your mother was practically a commoner," Sedak taunted. Hans cried to his mother, never feeling like they belonged.

"Let's just go," he begged. "We can go to another kingdom, we can live as other people." His mother lovingly stroked his hair, shushing the heartbroken prince.

"Hans, you must try to find a way to not let those words get to you, you have to remember your worth and your strength. Do not let the anger win, do not let them drive you away."

The queen passed away when Hans was only eight, and with her died the only ally, the only sense of love and belonging, that Hans would ever have.

"Who will it be?" Prince Galen asked again, knowing full well that there was only one real choice at this point. Only one son that was unmarried and willing. The King's dark, brooding eyes found Hans' at the end of the table, he recoiled under their intimidating stare.

"Hans will go to Arendelle to marry Princess Elsa."

The brothers mumbled under their breath in surprise, some louder than others, but none were more shocked than Hans himself.

"Me?" he asked, his eyes widening and his tone simply astonished. In all the years, Hans had never been picked for royal representation of the Southern Isles; the king would never trust him with such responsibility. Over time, Hans had successfully moved up the ranks of the Navy to Admiral, earned his highest honors in swordsmanship and fencing, and received awards in his equestrian pursuits. He was the utmost example of good breeding and poise, the only people in disagreement of this fact were his own family.

"Not alone, of course. Lars will be attending as well for guidance and guardianship." It was then that the men even noticed Lars in the back of the room, slinking and spying as usual. It seemed that he was always around, a serpent in the grass, studying and skulking in the dark corners.

"You mean to babysit," Sedak chuckled. Hans narrowed his eyes and folded his arms in defiance.

"To ensure that plans go accordingly, that we don't have any mishaps," King Elias clarified.

"It's Hans, of course there will be a mishap," Magnus said hotly. In the few moments he'd been in their attendance, his family had managed to make him feel two inches tall. The fact that his father would even volunteer him left him flabbergasted.

"I don't understand. Why me?" Hans asked to himself more than anyone else.

"Last resort," his father said, dismissingly waving his hand. Of course, it would never be that he was a good candidate or of any importance. There simply were no other options.

"What about us?" Tomas asked, gesturing to himself and Christian. The king rose his eyebrows in amusement.

"You think I would even consider that after the fiasco in The Netherlands years ago?" he asked rhetorically. "And besides, no young, beautiful princess is going to consider marrying an old drunkard. You're both far too old for her."

"She's beautiful?" Hans suddenly asked, realizing that there was a real possibility he would be marrying soon. Was he even ready for that? At the same time, and all at once, Hans had a flash of a life away from this one. King of another country, far away from the torment and aguish of his brothers and his father. Maybe this was the chance he'd been waiting for? Maybe this was his ticket to a better life.

Better yet, this was a chance to reinvent himself, be the person he was always meant to be. To make his mother proud, even though he knew that overcoming his anger and bitterness was going to be the hardest task of all. For as long as he could remember, the unpleasant demons in his head has always been there, beckoning him and calling him over to the dark side. So many times he'd envisioned inflicting pain of any kind upon them, but knowing deep down he was not capable of such atrociousness.

Because through the hate, there was a little boy inside of him that only wanted love and acceptance, for his big brothers to teach him how to fish and allow him to join them on excursions, to be proud of him. So many times, he'd watched from the window as they would play some kind of sport in the castle courtyard, uninvited.

"You'll make the teams uneven," one would lie, usually his late brother Andreas, who at least tried to spare his feelings.

"And we just don't want you to play," Sedak would finish, throwing any sentiment out the window.

"I'm arranging for your garments to be packed, you leave in the morning," King Elias announced. "And now, if you will all excuse us, Hans and I have some details to discuss."

Disappointed or simply uninterested, the princes stood and made their way out of the dining hall, their food untouched, aside from Tomas and Christian, who took their wine to go. The doors slammed, leaving King Elias and Prince Hans in the agonizing silence.

"I am giving you one chance to succeed with this, Hans," the king called out to him. "I want Arendelle, by any means necessary."

"Then send Sedak," Hans defied, "he is much better at doing your dirty work." The king smirked, amused by his son's obvious lack of confidence.

"Sedak is a sociopath," he responded casually.

"Oh, so you HAVE known all these years?"

"I am sending you, that is final," the King said, his voice stern.

"But, what do I _do_? How will I get her to love me when I cannot even get my own family to?" Hans wondered aloud, his brows furrowed into a frown. The king sighed, his gruffness beginning to dissipate. He stood, a head taller than Hans, and gently put his hand on his shoulder.

"I know that the years have been hard on you, Hans. I know that your brothers have been cruel; I, myself, have not been a perfect father to you," he said quietly, in a tone Hans had never heard his father take, especially not with him. "It is hard for me to trust you with such a task, but our family name is counting on you to marry into Arendelle. This is an opportunity for our kingdom, our name, to grow. And with it, you can escape the torment and the years of hurt from your brothers." In that moment, Hans felt a closeness he'd never felt to his father, as though perhaps he hadn't hated him all these years.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" Hans asked, suspicious and slightly unconvinced that his father was even capable of such kind words. "Who we married or where we ended up has never been that important to you before."

"That was before." The King brought a cup of wine to his lips, taking a sip and setting it back down gingerly. His shoulders slumped a bit, his eyes softening even more than before. "I was hard on you to push you, Hans. You were the runt of the group, you needed to toughen up," Elias rationalized. Hans knew this was his father trying to sound sympathetic or remorseful, although he wasn't particularly too good at it.

"So you let them treat me this way all these years to toughen me up?" Hans exclaimed, appalled. He took a step back, shaking his head slowly. "You LET it happen?"

"I said I was not a perfect man," Elias said, his voice and defensiveness beginning to raise.

"Then why, why now do you send me there with such a heavy responsibility-" Hans began to ask.

"I am dying," Elias finally shouted. Hans' mouth dropped open, then finally closed. He swallowed, hard. Although he'd never been close to his father, although he had deep, dark fantasies of standing over his father's deathbed and telling him exactly what his negligence and 'tough love' had done to him, he was still his father, and the only parent he had left.

"H-how-" Hans began to ask, Elias held a hand up to his son's mouth.

"Details are not important, Hans. I need to know that you will be okay somewhere, with a family, before I go. It is one of my dying wishes. Your brothers, they are strong. They will get along just fine without me. It is not them I worry about." He heaved a great sigh, and tried to reach Hans' averting eyes with his own. "I know I did not treat you well, my son. I know I was always busy, and that losing Queen Astrid changed my heart, in a way that not even your mother could heal, but I can't do anything to change that now. All I can do is trust you to find your way, to become the great man I know you are capable of."

Hans stood, his body frozen and his mind running a million miles per minute. He was flabbergasted at the notion that his father had always cared for him, but had been unable to ever show him, that he let his brothers treat him so badly for so long as a form of conditioning. Everything he had ever done in his life was for his family's approval, and now it all came down to this one task, yet he felt utterly hopeless about it.

"Go to Arendelle, be a different person, be the person you always wanted to be. Court her, marry her, and don't come back. Those are my orders." King Elias turned to walk back to his chair, Hans silently stirring by his seat.

"When do I leave?"

**Please review!**


	2. The Coronation

_Chapter 1:_

**Coronation Day**

The voyage was a dangerous one; currents due to the differentiating sea temperatures between the northern and southern hemispheres rocked the boat almost constantly, and summer storms across the ocean were particularly choppy this year.

However, during the four week long passage from the Southern Isles to Arendelle, Hans had spent a lot of time thinking, hoping that he could make his father and his family proud of him for once.

He tried to dig deep inside of himself, to find the part that was unjaded in an effort to put his best foot forward. His father's words echoed inside of his head.

_Be the person you have always wanted to be. _

He _wanted_ to. He wanted to reinvent himself. Even when he was little, the day he was clutched to his mother's chest sobbing about starting a new life, that had always been the grandest fantasy to him: to start anew.

He would often think about what kind of man he would have become if he'd had his mother for more than eight years, or if simply his brothers had been loving to him. Perhaps he wouldn't feel this competitive, agonizing need to prove himself and the insatiable drive for power. He really was two souls, split in two.

But this really was a chance at a new beginning, no matter what shortcomings he may have had pointed out his entire life. Where there was self-doubt he practiced confidence, where there was anger or resentment he practiced patience and love. He read, a lot, stories of romance and poetry, hoping that the words of encouragement and love would rub off on him.

It wasn't until he boarded the ship that he realized he had no idea what love was; he had never _been_ in love. He felt quite naïve to it all, since his different passions and constant lessons kept him quite busy in his youth, and the last thing he wanted was to seduce women at the same volume as some of his brothers.

He'd never thought a whole lot about love, not in the romantic sense. He assumed that eventually it would find him, but it was never really a priority. After all, he was only in his 23rd year, he had plenty of time to worry about such things, or so he thought.

And now that he'd really had a chance to think about it, Hans had never realized just how lonely his life really was. He wasn't sure why he'd never been interested in finding a young woman to spend his life with, but now that it was a real, plausible solution he could hardly contain his nerves. Merely a babe in the world, he was sent off to not only court a princess, but marry her and take stock in her kingdom.

The journey itself was quiet, also lonely, but that never troubled him before. Hans was used to being alone, used to silence. Lars had hardly left his bedroom chamber on the ship, which didn't bother him one iota since Lars had always slunk around in the background, mostly unnoticed.

Hans stood on the top deck of his ship, the sea air nipping at his face. It was refreshing, albeit slightly colder than he was expecting, but then again Arendelle was known for its cooler temperatures even in the summer. He wondered what Princess Elsa would be like, what she would look like. All he had was the memory of a painting that hung in their grand ballroom, one delivered to the king when he was quite young.

It was a family portrait of the King Agdar and Queen Idun of Arendelle, along with their two young daughters. It had been a gift; King Elias had collected portraits of all the royal families in neighboring kingdoms. He had always seen it as his own, royal photo album, used to show his high rank in society and diplomacy to foreign visitors.

It hung among the other portraits, nestled close to his favorite reading spot; a bench seat under a grand window that always seemed to have sunshine pouring through, even during the coldest months. The intricate, detailed painting was huge, making the king and queen life-sized with their two young daughters in tow. When Hans was quite little, and alone, he would go into that ballroom to be around 'people.' They weren't real, sure, but to a small child riddled with loneliness, they were the only friends he'd ever had. He would talk to them, and sometimes he pretended they would talk back. Although he never really knew the names to match these many faces, he saw them as his closest confidants. Days in that ballroom got him through tough times, especially when Ava had perished.

But he always recalled the Arendelle family portrait; the tall, proud king with kinder eyes than his own father's, the sweet, caring mother. He hated to admit it, but the two young girls had always been fascinating to him, so starkly different and yet similar at the same time. And although he knew that Elsa, the older daughter with eyes of ice and hair as white as snow, was the one he was going to wed, something about the littler one always called to his heart.

Her strawberry blonde hair looked soft, her eyes inviting, hopeful. She was younger than he, at least by a few years, but he couldn't help but be dawn to her time and time again.

As he grew, he needed the ballroom less and less. Lessons of all kinds would take up his time and he found that soon it would be months, sometimes even years that passed without even stepping foot in that room.

As the air whipped through his hair, Hans stared out at the horizon, Arendelle coming more and more into focus in the distance. The morning sun peaked over the mountains, making the sea blindly sparkling. After the long wait, he was finally here.

* * *

><p>Hans stood tall, proudly adjusting his light grey Admiral's jacket and his burgundy ascot in the mirror. Although he had been at sea for nearly a month, he didn't look the part of a wayward sailor. His navy vest and tailored pants were crisp and neat, his boots still shined to perfection. His hair was longer than he was used to, but at the same time he liked they way it looked; like he was someone else. A new person. He pulled a white glove up over his hand.<p>

"May I enter, your majesty?" Hans heard from the other side of his cabin door. He recognized the voice as Lars, who had finally come out of hiding to announce their arrival, although he'd known they were close for a few hours now.

"Enter," he called out, and heard the door unlatch.

"We are about to dock in Arendelle," Lars said. Hans turned to look at him, surprised to see a slight smile on his usually morose face. He was much older than Hans; lines painted his slightly tanned face. He had dark eyes, almost black and a pointed nose that stuck out farther than any other he'd seen. He had dark, graying hair and very snake-like features that always left him slightly uneasy. He was draped in a dark, purple cloak and a cane that had become his most used accessory was in his black-gloved left hand. He'd use the cane all of Hans' life, although he'd never thought to ask why.

"Thank you, Lars," Hans said politely.

"The coronation is in a few hours, we are arranging a meeting with Princess Elsa beforehand, so that you can-"

"Oh, Lars. Lighten up a bit. We just got here," Hans pleaded slightly. "I'll meet her, but first I want to get off this ship! Let Sitron stretch his legs a bit. I thought maybe we could explore the town." Although Hans hadn't been closed up in a castle all his life, he hadn't been out much either. He'd never explored other kingdoms, such invitations were always reserved for his older brothers. The farthest he made it was to sea while in the Navy, but as far as getting out to see the world he was still slightly virginal.

"Very well, Prince Hans." Lars swallowed back his distaste for the idea, pursing his thin lips. "I will arrange to have Sitron dressed for riding at once."

* * *

><p>The feeling of land under Hans' boots was incredibly comforting, although he figured he'd be suffering from vertigo for the remainder of this visit. He had barely made it off the ship before a cart whirled by him, almost knocking him over.<p>

The villagers were all in a tizzy, flowers and streamers strewn about all over the kingdom. People hustled past and spoke in excited whispers; the gates were to open soon. He didn't know much about Arendelle, but he did know that the princesses lived as shut-ins for most of their lives after the King and Queen had passed and that this was a huge event for the kingdom.

Hans was in the highest spirits he'd been in for longer than he could remember, free at last and alone in a way that made him feel empowered, not lonely. Not far from the docks was the market, which he gravitated to immediately. So many people, so many brightly colored decorations and tapestries; the buzz around him was intoxicating.

In the village square he saw a group of young maidens eyeing him from afar and whispering to one another. His cheeks pinkened when he realized they were talking about him, he could even hear the giddiness in their laughter. He rose a gloved and to them and waved.

"Hello, ladies," he called out politely, their laughter erupting into almost squeals. The interaction brought an instant smile to his face as he realized he was free. THIS was the person he wanted to be.

Lars sent a guard to him with Sitron, who neighed excitedly at his presence.

"Sitron!" Hans yelled out, excited to see his favorite companion as well. He pulled at Sitron's harness and brought his face down towards his, petting his nose gently. "Good to see you too, buddy. Wanna go for a ride?"

The terrain of Arendelle was nothing like the Southern Isles; it was rocky and slightly treacherous and Sitron was not particularly used to it. The views, however, were astonishing. Even in the summer Hans could see snowcapped mountains off in the distance and evergreens cloaked the land in their dark, green musk.

It was easy to be impressed with the beauty of Arendelle, but the people were another story. All the people he passed would bow as he rode by, taken aback by the handsome, young prince. They showed him more respect and gratitude in those first few hours of arriving than he had ever gotten back at home, although he tried hard not to think about it. It was easy for him to feel a sense of belonging here, which was something he didn't even realize he longed for so deeply. The mere notion that this could be his home made him overcome with a feeling inside his belly that he couldn't quite pinpoint. Or maybe that was just the vertigo.

He rode quickly as he heard bells in the distance; the coronation would be starting soon. Hans had been so busy exploring the town and the people that he had completely forgotten about the time.

"Yah!" he yelled out to Sitron, who picked up speed just in time to collide with something, or better yet someone, on the dock. Hans watched in horror as a young woman flew backwards and landed in the back of a nearby rowboat, nearly tipping it over into the cold bay. Thinking fast and with one swift movement, Hans pulled on the reign tightly, prompting Sitron to steady the boat on the dock and keep her from falling.

"Hey!" he heard her yell out in surprise.

"I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?" he asked quickly, fearing that perhaps in his first hours in Arendelle he might inadvertently kill someone. He assumed this was NOT the best way to make a first impression. His eyes met hers, and something struck him instantly: the familiarity. It was as if they'd met before but he wasn't quite sure where. Her big, emerald eyes fixated on his and widened, a silly smile spreading across her lips.

"Hey. I-ya, no. No. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" He coaxed.

"Yeah I just wasn't looking where I was going. But I'm okay."

Hans smirked to himself and got down off the horse, nearing her and climbing into the boat to help her out of her current predicament. Something about her cute, flustered awkwardness made him wonder if this was a common occurrence for her, getting in a bind.

"I'm great, actually," she assured.

"Oh, thank goodness," he said, a slight chuckle in his voice. He reached his hand down, and she gladly took it, their eyes meeting. Something about the way she looked into his eyes made his breath hitch, he froze for a split second. He couldn't deny the instant chemistry, so much so he realized he'd completely forgotten his manners. He cleared his throat and took a bow.

"Prince Hans of the Southern Isles," he introduced. Usually when he introduced himself to lovely women they all had a similar awestruck reaction, but this one seemed relatively unphased. She took a small curtsey.

"Princess Anna of Arendelle," she reciprocated. Hans was instantly caught off guard, embarrassed by his casualness in this situation.

"P-Princess?" he repeated, surprised. He instantly fell to one knee, bowing more dramatically than before. "My Lady." Taking a cue from his rider, Sitron raised his hoof in honor of the princess, only to send the two of them nearly toppling into the bay, together this time, Hans falling with all of his weight onto the princess.

"Hi again," Anna said, seemingly trying to defuse the embarrassing situation they'd both found themselves in. Realizing his mistake, Sitron instantly slammed his foot down, destabilizing the boat, causing them back to topple backwards, this time her on top of him.

"Oh boy," Hans exclaimed, the air almost knocked right out of him. They lingered a moment, Anna beginning to blush nervously.

"Ha. This is awkward. Not you're awkward, but just because we're- - I'm awkward, you're gorgeous," she rambled as they got back to their feet. He couldn't help but chuckle under his breath at her quirkiness. Her eyes grew three sizes as she realized what she'd just said to him. "Wait. What?"

"I want to formally apologize for hitting the Princess of Arendelle with my horse…and every moment after," he said casually, hoping to ease her nervousness. It didn't seem to help, she remained bashful and flustered under his intense stare. She tucked some lose hair behind her ear and shrugged.

"No, no-no. It's fine. I'm not THAT princess. I mean, if you'd hit my sister Elsa that would be - - Yeesh! 'Cause, you know…" her words trailed as she walked by him, almost re-running into Sitron again. She sweetly patted his nose, and Hans made the observation that she had the attention span of a flea. "Hello," she greeted the horse, safely back on the dock. She turned to him again, their eyes locking once more. "But, luck you. It was just me."

"Just you," Hans repeated, suddenly realizing where he'd seen her before. In the flesh, not painted upon canvass, was the beautiful, doe-eyed little girl he'd told all his secrets to growing up. She was older now, of course, but it was undoubtedly her. It was his turn to be simply awestruck at her lines and curves, painted more brilliantly in real life than he could have ever imagined growing up.

_ Diiiing, diiiing, diiiing_

"The bells. The coronation! I-I-I…I better go! I have to.. I better go!" she said frantically, outlining his own thoughts as well. He watched her begin to run off, relieved when she turned back around to see him one more time. "Bye," she waved, the bashful smile returning to her face. He smiled and waved back.

Sitron lifted his hoof once more, this time forgetting to secure it, sending Hans himself into the freezing cold bay water. Although he knew he would most likely be late for the coronation at this point, he didn't particularly care. He had to get dressed and ready to meet Princess Elsa soon…although that wasn't the princess he wanted to get to know at all.

* * *

><p>The coronation was boring, as were most royal traditions. He realized quickly that he was glad he'd never been chosen to attend such events in the past, they were less than thrilling. Sandwiched between other members of royalty and a personal pillow for a large, older man, Hans was oddly at peace however. He was happy he'd made it to the ceremony just in time, having had to stop off and change from his heavy, soaked attire. Luckily, however, his clothes and belongings had been moved to his suite in the castle, where many of the most honored guests were staying as well.<p>

Elsa was, of course, beautiful. But in the moments before the ceremony as she greeted everyone, there was something so cold and closed off about her. He didn't feel the electricity, the instant connection with her, like he did with Anna.

_Anna_.

Sweet, naïve, silly Anna. He couldn't exactly figure out how he felt about the whole plan anymore. It was easy to see from the get-go that Elsa was going to be a tough nut to crack, and at this point he wasn't even entirely sure that he wanted to, anymore.

The last few weeks he had prepared everything; how he would woo her, what he would say, how it would all go down. The thing about life is that it doesn't always go according to a plan, and although Elsa had freewill to marry whomever she wanted, he had very little faith she was even open to the idea of ANYONE courting her, let alone the 13th born of a long line of jerks.

Anna peeked over at him, smiling happily to see him in the pew. He smiled back, giving her a small wave. The look in her eye was reassuring. Did it really matter which of the two princesses he married? Didn't his father just want him to find happiness?

Hans shook the thoughts out of his head quickly; he was getting carried away. He didn't even KNOW them. And it wasn't about love, none of this was. It was about sticking to the plan. If love grew from that, it would just be icing on the cake. In royalty, it was not uncommon for people who hardly knew each other to marry, it would grow to mutual respect and in the best cases love would follow.

Elsa stood at the front of the chapel, her scepter and orb in hand, while the Bishop chanted in Norse. The coronation was finally nearing the end, and Hans let out a sigh of relieve that he could soon un-pry the large snorer from his aching shoulder.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle," the Bishop announced.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle," the congregation repeated.

They all stood and waited for the Queen, Princess Anna and the Bishop to file out before exiting afterward. Hans shook his neighbor awake who awoke with a startle, before standing and stretching his cramped arm.

"What a snooze-fest, eh Lars?" Hans joked lightly, but Lars looked less than amused.

"You missed your meeting with Queen Elsa before the coronation. You barely made it in time," Lars scolded. Hans scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"I told you I-"

"I am beginning to think you are not taking your father's orders seriously. There were numerous suitors lined up to greet her, but The Southern Isles was notably missing. How do you think that makes us look, Hans?" Lars was fuming. Hans shrunk under Lars' angry chagrin; he hadn't thought about how his absence would look to the Queen or her officials. "This is exactly what your father was afraid of," Lars grumbled under his breath. Hans didn't wait around to hear any more, he'd had enough. He turned on a heel and hurriedly walked to his private bedroom chamber. He had a party to get ready for.

**A/N**

** This story follow's Hans' POV during the events of the movie and then beyond. Hope you're enjoying and please leave a review!**


	3. Love Is An Open Door

**Chapter 2:**

_Love is an Open Door_

Hans was trying to forget what Lars had said earlier, although it was hard to shake the words out of his head. Less than one amazing day in Arendelle and he was already being reminded of just what he was running away from. He clenched his fists and tried to keep his composure as he dressed for the party, pacing around his room. How could he have dropped the ball already? How could he have been deterred from his mission so quickly?

_I really am a failure, _he thought to himself.

Luckily, Lars had left him alone with his thoughts, which gave him time to find some kind of composure. He stared at his reflection in the mirror: he didn't recognize himself, which he didn't mind. He wanted to be someone else, that's all he'd ever hoped for. His green eyes were brighter, his face lightly sprinkled with freckles, a gift from his mother. He needed to get his head in the game, he needed to go to Elsa and ask her to dance, get to know her and forget about the strawberry blonde with gem-toned eyes and a green dress.

The ball itself was as lavish as he imagined it would be; tapestries, gold and music filling the room with the aroma of chocolate and decadence. Everyone seemed to be having a grand time, perhaps slightly warm from the free-flowing wine and gourmet food. He stood alone, no one really engaged him in conversation aside from idle small-talk and introductions. Lars still seemed sore, standing in the back of the room and watching as usual, his purple cloak exchanged for a white and gold one. Now that he'd had the time to calm down, he remembered that Lars really was just trying to do his job. He did it well, otherwise he wouldn't have been his father's most trusted confidant for the last 30 years.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle!" they announced proudly. Hans clapped with the crowd, picking up a flute of champagne as a server walked by. He took a big swig of it, liquid courage, and started towards the front of the room to join an assembly line of people anxious to greet her.

"Princess Anna of Arendelle!" they announced next. Hesitantly and ever-so-awkwardly, Anna joined her regal-looking sister near the thrown. Hans stopped, eying them intently; they talked quietly, shared a moment. He began to forge towards them again when he was abruptly cut off by a waif-like, dwarfish man in a bad toupee. Hans ran a frustrated hand through his hair; he'd have to wait. He then watched in slightly amused horror as the man led a reluctant Anna to the dance floor. Hans gave up, retiring to the back of the room to rejoin Lars.

Lars seemed to have calmed down as well, clutching a goblet of red wine in his long, pale fingers.

"Are you enjoying yourself this evening, your majesty?" Lars asked, although Hans could sense a lack of sincerity in his voice.

"As well as expected," Hans responded. "Those girls are hard to get to," he observed.

"That is why we set up the meeting," Lars said curtly, but grinned anyway. "You know, the one in which you did not attend?" Hans ignored the jab and shook his head.

"I'm not sure what to do." The men's eyes went to Elsa, who was standing like a statue in the front of the room, talking to no one. "Why is she like that? Has she always been this way?" Hans asked, slightly annoyed at his difficult task at hand. "Is it because she lost her parents?"

"It happened long before that. No one really knows. She's always been a timid girl," Lars divulged. Hans sighed loudly. "I am sure you will have time to engage with her at the luncheon scheduled tomorrow afternoon; we are supposed to discuss trade with her there, you remember correct?" Lars asked. Hans nodded again.

"Right, right. I got it."

"Just enjoy yourself, it doesn't look like the Queen is up for socializing much this evening."

With Lars' blessing, Hans began back out into the crowd, picking up another glass of champagne. He was never really one to drink, but his nerves had him slightly on edge and he was trying his best to ease his worries. He smiled and waved to the party guests, making his way across the crowd when he saw something fast, a flurry of green and gold, fly by him. Out of reflex, he threw his hand out to catch it, only to face a blushing and nervous Anna. He couldn't help but smile at her, yet again tripping over herself.

"Glad I caught you," he uttered, pleased to realize just how smooth he sounded.

"Hans!" she exclaimed happily. Hans set his drink down, pulling her up to his chest. It was in that moment that he realized that the music was playing, impulsively pulling her into a waltz.

She was actually surprisingly graceful, something he didn't expect at all from the times he'd seen her. In that moment, Hans felt content; happy even. She stared at him with stars in her eyes, totally trusting and infatuated, like he was special. Like he could do anything.

She didn't know his past or his life before her; all she knew was a handsome, charming prince was holding her and twirling her around a room full of people. And she let him.

_It's just one dance_, he said to himself. _I can meet Elsa tomorrow. This doesn't have to mean anything._

Without paying attention, Anna flung her arm out, accidentally smacking a server as he walked by. The impact caused a chain reaction. Glasses from the waiter's tray went tumbling down, crashing onto the floor, causing a scene. Anna quickly brought her hands to her mouth, mortified at her seemingly-constant clumsiness.

"You really _are_ awkward, aren't you?" he laughed lightly, remembering her words at the boat earlier that day. "Wanna get outta here?" he suggested quickly.

"Yup!" she nodded enthusiastically, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the party and to an empty sitting room. Hans continued to chuckle, happy to be out and away from the crowd. After a brief silence, Anna turned to face him. She forced a nervous smile, Hans adjusted his white jacket and smoothed his hair. They glanced out towards the party in time to see a woman slip on the spilled beverages on the floor, a crowd starting to circle around her.

"Wow," he breathed, astonished at what a mess she'd made. "I hope she's okay…"

"Um. Yeah. I'm really sorry about that," she stammered.

"It's fine," he reassured.

"No, it's like, _REALLY_ not fine. I am so emb-" Hans cut her off, gently putting his hands on her shoulders. He looked into her eyes and smiled warmly.

"No, it's like, REALLY fine."

"Oh," she smiled, bigger this time, her eyes falling down and over to his hands resting on her shoulders. She seemed to be at ease under her hands, finally calming down. Hans walked over to a serving tray, bringing her back a glass of champagne along with one for himself.

"Here, this will help," he said, extending the glass towards her.

"I- uh. I dunno. I don't really drink. I mean…I haven't ever drank," she explained, pointing to the glass sheepishly.

"I guess it's time you try something new," he suggested, nudging it at her again. She giggled a bit, taking the glass. Without much thought, she shrugged her shoulders and brought the glass to her lips, taking a small sip. She mused for a second, her face registering the taste.

"Hmm it's…bubbly," she described.

"It's champagne, it's suppo-" Hans' words trailed off as he watched her tip the whole glass back and drink it all. "Well. Ok. Yeah, that's one way to do it."

"I like it," she nodded, her eyes large and excited. "Like, I could drink a whole bunch of this stuff!"

"Whoa, now. Simmer down. I think one whole glass in less than ten seconds is plenty for now," he laughed. "For an amateur, at least." He took the glass from her and set it down on a nearby table, turning to look at her again. She wrinkled her nose and laughed when their eyes met again, beginning to fan herself with her hand.

"Wow, it's hot in here. Is it hot in here or is it just me?" she spoke quickly.

"It's just you," he smirked, instantly noting the double meaning behind the words. "So, this is your palace, huh?" Hans said, attempting to change the subject. He glanced around, noting the impeccable taste. "What a dump," he teased.

"Hey!" she giggled, hitting him lightly on the arm. "It's not much, but it's home," she joked back.

"Lots of space for just the two of you."

"Well, I mean, it wasn't just us." She began to fidget with her hands, unable to ever stay still. "There were the maids and the butlers of course. Not to mention there were always foreign dignitaries in and out, Kai, the elders than had control until Elsa was of age."

"I bet you two have wonderful memories running around this place," Hans wondered aloud. Anna's face suddenly changed from bright and cheery to somber, leaving Hans curious if he'd said something wrong. "What? What is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Anna said, waving her hand. "I mean, Elsa and I- we're-" she paused, gnawing on her lip, trying to find the right words. "We aren't that close, is all. Not anymore, at least. She didn't spend much time out of her room growing up. Like… Ever."

"Ever?" Hans asked in disbelief. Anna nodded weakly.

"I mean, I still entertained myself! I had a lot of fun. I often had the whole parlor to myself to slide…" she said excitedly, so much so that her arm sprang out and smacked Hans right in the face.

"Ouch!" he laughed, rubbing his face. She instantly brought her arms up to him.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright? I am so-"

"Sorry? Yeah. I know," he finished.

"I think that champagne went right to my head. Would you…" she paused, a wry smile crossing her face, "like to take a walk?"

The two of them entered the courtyard, Hans made an instant note of how perfectly lit up the sky was between the stars, the lights from the village and the moon. He also couldn't help but notice just how lovely Anna looked in the moonlight, but he tried to shake that thought out of his head as soon as it entered.

They talked. Well, mostly Anna talked. A lot. Hans didn't mind though, the less she knew about him the better, and she seemed to have no problem telling him all the stories of her childhood, what had happened to her parents, how Elsa never left her room. He figured getting insight on Elsa was a good idea, but the more Anna described her the more he realized that there was almost no way he was going to be able to penetrate her emotional armor. He was happy, however, to see such lightness in Anna. It was refreshing to see someone who had been the product of such tragedy, and to go through most of it completely alone, was such a normal, functioning, even happy human being.

"…And so how long have you been in the Navy?" she asked him.

"About 5 years so far, but I took fencing and horseback riding since I was a child so I was used to the discipline."

"…And your physique helps I'm sure, too," she noted aloud. Hans rose his eyebrows, and Anna looked slightly mortified for saying it.

"What can I say? You're right. I've got an amazing body," he joked, Anna laughed. He gently nudged her with his arm, she gently nudged him back.

_No. No. NO NO NO_.

This is not the plan. This isn't how this is supposed to happen.

_I need you to take Arendelle by any means necessary. _

His fathers words loudly repeated in his head, over and over again. And yet, in this same conversation King Elias told him that he just wanted him to be happy and loved somewhere. _THIS_ couldn't be love. A couple of fleeting hours with a beautiful girl that made him laugh and puzzled him with her quirky habits and clumsiness couldn't possibly be love.

_Could it?_

He didn't know anything ABOUT love. For all he knew it was the champagne making his heart beat faster and his stomach flutter. Why did it have to be Elsa? Why couldn't the first in line for Arendelle be THIS princess? And more importantly, did it really even matter?

YES IT MATTERED.

_You're a failure. They are all expecting you to fail. _The voice that had been quieted for most of his voyage returned to his head, and with a vengeance. _They knew you couldn't do it, they should have sent another brother. A smarter brother. A better brother._

Hans desperately tried to ignore the painfully aggressive self-doubt plaguing him while he walked beside her; luckily she didn't seem to notice his internal struggle, just seemed to ramble off more about her life and her dreams, her aspirations.

"I used to want to be a dancer," she was saying. He tried to focus back in on the conversation. "But, I am not sure if you know this, I am not that graceful all the time." Hans stared at her, noticing a long, thick chunk of white in her hair that he'd never noticed before this point.

"What's this?" he asked, gesturing towards it. Anna recoiled a bit, ashamedly patting it.

"I was born with it, although I dreamt I was kissed by a troll," she smiled, embarrassedly.

"I like it," Hans uttered. It wasn't until after he said it that he realized that he really did like it. He liked everything about her.

"Have you ever had krumkake before?" Anna suddenly asked, snapping Hans back to reality. Attention span of a flea, he remembered.

"I can't say I have," he replied.

"Come on! You don't know what you're missing!" she exclaimed, grabbing his hand and leading him back to the party. She hurried over to the desert table and began filling a large, gold-plated dish with as many sweets as she could. Hans stared at her in disbelief.

"You really like sweets, huh?" he asked. She glanced over at him, her cheeks full of some sort of cake. She nodded happily as she continued to sift through the desert table. "Me too," he laughed, helping her put a few more delicacies on the plate. The two of them hurried off, retiring to a quiet balcony.

Once outside, Anna sat the tray down between them and began grazing it, unsure where to begin. Hans shook his head.

"You really wiped that table out, didn't you?"

"I can never decide what I want, so I just take it all."

"This is literally enough to feed my entire family, and I have twelve older brothers!" he laughed. Anna picked up a rolled desert with whipped cream in the middle and brought it up to his face.

"Here, eat this. This is krumkake, you have to eat the whole thing all at once," she instructed.

"Well, aren't you the expert," he said rhetorically, taking the desert from her waiting hand. "Just like this? The whole thing?"

"Yeah! The whole thing! You got it!" she said, cheering him on. He did as he was instructed, not at all disappointed with the deliciousness she'd promised. She laughed at him struggling the eat it, then refocused. "Okay, wait, wait. So you have HOW many brothers?" she asked, surprised.

"Twelve older brothers. Three of them pretended I was invisible…literally…for two years!" He tried his hardest to say this particularly hurtful sentence as lightly as possible, and it seemed to work. Her eyes saddened, sympathy painting her face.

"That's horrible," she said sadly.

"It's what brothers do." He almost believed it.

"…And sisters," she divulged. Hans couldn't help but relate to the sadness in her eyes as she spoke. "Elsa and I were really close when we were little. But then, one day, she just shut me out, and I never knew why…" Hans reached for her hand; he didn't think about it before he did, it just seemed like the right thing to do. He wanted to touch her, to relate to her. This was the first time in his whole life that he realized that someone out there knew his pain, related to him on this level. Elsa may not have been cruel like his family, but the feeling of being alone with no one to turn to or talk to was so unbelievably damaging.

"I would never shut you out," he said, the words spilling out before he had a chance to stop them. Her eyes found his again, softer and hopeful, she smiled meekly, a little desperation in her voice.

"Can I just…say something crazy?"

"I love crazy," he said happily.

She went on to tell him about how lonely her life had been and how much their interaction had meant to her over the course of the last couple hours. It was easy to get swept up in the moment. For once in both of their lives, someone was there to offer a hand and a sympathetic shoulder, to say "I get it. I understand."

To say that they got carried away was an understatement. They spent the rest of the evening talking, laughing, even singing. They danced, they drank more champagne and ate more deserts. They narrowly escaped guards as they roamed the halls of the castle. They acted like children at play, something they never particularly got in their youth.

Hans was falling in love, or at least, what he thought was love. It was so quick and so hard that he didn't even realize when it happened. The plan, Elsa, Lars, his father and his family, all of that was the last thing on his mind when he was with her.

When Hans was with Anna, he wasn't an Admiral. He wasn't a swordsman, a prince, a royal representative. He wasn't a failure. He was just… Hans. The person he wanted to be.

And wasn't that the real plan, wasn't that all his father wanted from him?

Their last stop of the evening was a cliff side, by a waterfall. He was drunk on their newfound infatuation. He wrapped his long arms around her, holding her close and taking in her scent. He turned around in the excitement of it all and uttered,

"Can I say something crazy…? Will you marry me?" Anna's eyes widened, her smile bright and beaming.

"Can I just say something even crazier?" she asked. Hans nodded. "Yes!"

And in that moment, Hans was happier than he'd ever been. He wasn't thinking about consequences. He had his ticket out of his miserable life, whether he would be king or not. But deep in the pit of his stomach he knew Lars was not going to be happy about this…


	4. The Substitute King

**Chapter 3:**

_The Substitute King_

Hans was _beaming_.

He felt like the luckiest man in the world, being dragged through the party by Anna. The crowd was fanning out, starting to dissipate as the night started approaching the morning hours. They trudged through, pushing their way around weary guests.

He couldn't believe his luck; not only had he met a beautiful, funny, interesting (albeit, naïve) princess, but she was willing to marry him _on the spot_. Sure, maybe it veered off from the original plan, but hypothetically-speaking, if anything were to happen to the queen, it was most certainly Anna who would take the throne. And who would reign right beside her? Why, her handsome, courageous husband, of course.

Success was so close, he could almost taste it. The idea left him absolutely giddy. Although he wasn't quite sure what it was, exactly, that he felt for Princess Anna, he was almost positive that with some time and cultivation, he really _could_ love her. This was close enough for now.

Together, they spotted Elsa in the crowd, talking to some patrons, presumably thanking them for their attendance.

"Elsa!" Anna yelled out, before toning herself down. She curtsied awkwardly. "I mean…Queen. Me again. Um. May I present Prince Hans of the Southern Isles." Hans took that as his cue to bow in front of the beautiful, reserved queen.

"Your majesty," he greeted, politely. Elsa curtsied back. Anna could hardly contain herself, she was bursting at the seams.

"We would like-" she paused, so Hans continued for her.

"Your blessing-"

"…of-" she giggled, the suspense growing.

"Our marriage!" they finally blurted in unison, embracing one another. They watched as Elsa's face fell.

"Marriage…?" she asked, her tone falling flat.

"Yes!" Anna exclaimed, excitedly.

"I'm sorry, I'm confused." Hans wasn't liking the look in her eyes, but he figured all she needed was a little convincing; after all, they'd only just met. It was normal for her to be hesitant. But she wasn't there with them tonight, she didn't know the chemistry or the connection they'd made so quickly. If she'd been there with them the whole night, she would understand.

"Well, we haven't worked out all the details ourselves. We'll need a few days to plan the ceremony. Of course, we'll have soup, roast, ice cream and then…" she paused, an epiphany coming to her. "Wait. Would we live here?" she bounced up and down excitedly.

"Aaaaaabsolutely!" Hans agreed; that was _definitely_ part of the plan. Why would he take her back to the Southern Isles when they could just stay here in Arendelle? A place where no one knew him, a place where he was respected and welcomed with such open arms. He could hardly believe how perfectly this was going.

"Oh! We can invite all twelve of your brothers to stay with us-" she said to Hans happily, ignoring Elsa's quiet protests. "Of course we have the room, I don't know. Some of them must-"

"Wait! Slow down," Elsa said sternly, finally quieting Anna's rambling. "No one's brothers are staying here. No one is getting married." The words stung, Hans suddenly felt very foolish standing there in front of the young queen's icy gaze; something about the rejection resonated with him quickly, and he was increasingly aware of all of the eyes upon them, beginning to create a scene. No eyes, however, burned into them more than those of Lars, glowering in the back corner as per usual. He swallowed hard; let out a nervous laugh.

"Wait, what?" Anna asked, her voice crushed. Elsa seemed to notice the crowd as well, lowering her head and voice towards Anna.

"May I talk to you please? Alone?" she requested quietly. Anna stepped away from her sister, defiantly taking Hans' arm in hers.

"No," she said, hurt but strong. "Whatever you have to say y-you can say to both of us." Elsa's eyes narrowed, her head tall once more.

"Fine. You can't marry a man you just met." Hans felt his stomach drop. It was silly of him to assume this could go off without a hitch. The worst part was that Elsa was right. The self-doubt instantly came flooding back to Hans. The women continued their argument, and all Hans could do was silently panic inside.

_ His_ plan was quickly unraveling, and his father's plan was ruined. There was no way he would be marrying _either_ woman at this point, especially now that Elsa wouldn't bless the marriage. Word of his failure was sure to reach his father in no time. if only he hadn't acted so hastily, if only he had waited a few days, met the queen and cultivated the relationship instead of letting his infatuation get the better of him.

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

The girls bickered more and Hans tired to intercede, only to be shot down by a cold and definite Elsa. He worried, not just about himself but about Anna as well. She was braver than usual; he assumed the champagne and adrenaline was helping her say things she would have normally kept inside. It wasn't long before she held Elsa's glove in her hand, begging her for some kind of reaction other than shutting her out.

"When I said to enjoy yourself, this is hardly what I meant," Lars' voice spat near his ear, fuming. He hadn't even noticed Lars slink up beside him. He ignored him completely, moving forward after Anna. He would deal with Lars later.

Without knowing exactly what was being said between the sisters at this point, Hans was taken aback by a giant, icy blast across the room. Patrons gasped in shock, himself included. It took a moment to process what was happening, and that the giant, pointed shards of ice that now blanketed the ballroom floor had come from Elsa uncloaked hand.

"Sorcery!" the waif-ish, old Duke exclaimed, putting a name on the mystical spectacle they'd all just witnessed. Hans didn't know what exactly it was, his sole interest now was making sure Anna was okay. Elsa ran out of the large, oak doors of the ballroom and into the night, and Hans ran to Anna's side.

"A-are you hurt?" he asked, genuinely concerned as he pressed his hand to her cheek and examined her for injuries. Her eyes never met his as she watched after Elsa, struggling to go after her, but Hans held her back.

"I have to go to her, let me go to her!" she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "She _needs_ me!"

"Not until you tell me if you're hurt," Hans demanded. She turned to him, her eyebrows low and sad, confused.

"N-no," she choked out, suddenly pulling him close to her in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around her, lowering his head to hers. In that moment he realized he was physically closer to her than he'd been all night.

"What are you going to do?"

"I-I…" she paused, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. "I need to go to her," she said, looking up at him, her blue eyes pleading. Hans simply nodded, before following her out into the courtyard.

Anna called after Elsa, running at full speed. Even with all of Hans' training, it was hard to keep up with the agile girls. He watched in awe as Elsa began to freeze the bay, as well as the village, making a run for it across the fjord. He ran to Anna's side as he watched her attempt to run after her across the ice, only to slip and fall. There was no way they would be able to catch up to Elsa to stop her on the slick ice. Hans helped a defeated Anna up and they turned back, hurrying towards the guards and patrons that continued to stand, bewildered and frightened.

"Are you alright?" Hans asked again. It was the only thing he could really think to say, as he, too, was in shock over the events that had transpired in only a matter of moments.

"No," she finally said, a sob in her voice.

"Did you know?" he asked.

"No."

How could she not know that Elsa had such a great power within her? Hans took a deep breath, trying to piece together what he'd just witnessed. His moment of clarity wasn't to come, however, as they spotted the Duke trying to arrange a party to go after the queen.

"Wait, no!" Anna yelled out to him. The Duke jumped behind his men.

"YOU! Is there sorcery in _you_, too? Are you a monster, too?"

"No-no," Anna said, fear in her voice. Hans could only imagine what the Duke was going to do with this information, the treachery and the witch hunt that would ensure. Surely Anna would be under investigation for what she knew, if anything at all. And now that he thought about it, what IF Anna had some kind of untapped power inside of her she had not realized yet? He didn't really know her. But that didn't matter. He felt it his duty to protect her. "I'm completely ordinary."

"That's right, she is…" But she wasn't. She was special. Just not ice-throwing, village-freezing special. He glanced down at her lovingly. "I-in the best way."

"…And my sister's not a Monster."

"She nearly killed me!" the Duke yelled dramatically. Hans could feel his patience for this man running increasingly thinner and thinner.

"You slipped on ice," he corrected.

"HER ice," the Duke clarified.

"It was an accident. She was scared. She didn't mean it. She didn't mean any of this…." Anna finally interceded. "Tonight was my fault." Hans couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as well. Had he not been there, had he not proposed like an idiot, this wouldn't have happened. "I pushed her. So I'm the one that needs to go after her."

"What?" Hans protested.

"Bring me my horse, please!" Anna commanded. Hans grabbed her shoulders and turned her to him.

"Anna! No! It's too dangerous!" Hans objected. He instantly realized just how naïve Anna really was, wanting to go after her sister. Here was a princess that had never really experienced anything beyond castle walls wanting to trek through the snow to find her sister.

"Elsa's not dangerous!" Anna insisted, heatedly. "I'll bring her back, and I'll make this right," she said to him, her eyes full of tears. He wanted to make it better for her, he wanted to tell her that this wasn't her fault, he wanted to fetch Sitron and go with her, they'd find her together. The Royal Handler approached them with her cloak and horse.

"I'm coming with you,' he demanded.

"No," she said firmly. "I need you here to take care of Arendelle."

What? Just like that? She and the queen were gone and it was up to him to rule their kingdom in their absence? In his life, his father never even trusted him to provide royal representation of the Southern Isles, let alone rule a kingdom, even if temporarily. The thought of ruling Arendelle fascinated and excited him. Without much thought, he assured her.

"On my honor," he promised. Anna threw on her cloak and hopped onto her horse.

"I leave Prince Hans in charge," she announced, much to the Duke's dismay. Something about that sentence fed a part of Hans he didn't even know was hungry. Although he knew he should go with her, insist on leaving the kingdom in the capable and trusting hands of the dignitaries that had ruled on behalf of the queen for the last three years, he was elated at the chance to prove himself. And she was giving him that chance. He held onto her for a moment longer.

"Are you sure you can trust her? I don't want you getting hurt."

"She's my sister. She would never hurt me," Hans watched her snap the reins and ride off into the snow-covered streets of Arendelle. He watched helplessly, knowing that anything that happened to her from this point forward was simply beyond his control, and it made his heart ache in his chest.

_ She's my sister, she would never hurt me._

But Hans, of all people, knew just how hurtful siblings could really be. And that thought alone terrified him. Watching her ride away, Hans instantly felt regret for letting her go alone. There were plenty of guards, why would she go alone?

"Now what are we supposed to do, freeze to death?!" the Duke spat angrily. Hans turned to face the crowd, all of their dependence was now on him. He felt his hands shake as he realized just how much responsibility now rested on his (questionably) able shoulders.

"What do we do?" a townsperson cried out.

"We aren't prepared for this cold!"

"Our crops will die! We will starve!"

"…our children will freeze!"

The anguish began to grow increasingly desperate. Hans hurried to the frozen fountain, standing upon the concrete wall to rise above their heads, even if only by a few feet.

"Citizens!" he yelled out. They turned to him, anxiously awaiting instructions. He swallowed, hard. They needed a leader right now, so that was what he was going to be. "We mustn't panic! We will do what we can to endure this hardship! We will be distributing cloaks and blankets from the castle," he yelled towards the wait staff, who hurried inside to begin rummaging through linen closets and storages. "We must do what we can to keep warm; all able men need to be helping get firewood from the nearby woods, and all salvageable foods from the crops and gardens need to be harvested for consumption and storage." He looked among their worried faces. "We need to work together, depend on one another! We will get through this, I assure you."

Hans hopped down from the wall, hurrying over to one of his men.

"Get me Sitron," he demanded. He was going after her, he never should have let her go alone.

"Absolutely _not_!" he heard Lars' angry voice call out. He turned to him.

"I need to help Anna," he insisted.

"You have done _enough_!" Lars growled. Hans turned his back on him and began to put on his riding cloak. Lars reached for his shoulder and turned him around. "One more move and I will send word to your father about just how much damage you have done!" Hans shrunk under his dark and angry stare. "Get inside of your bedroom chamber at once so we can discuss just what you were thinking!"

Sent to his room like an adolescent. Hans couldn't believe this was happening, how had everything gone so awry in a matter of one day?

_ You're a failure_.

He paced the room, anxiously looking out the window. The snow continued to dump down upon the ill-prepared village in flurries. He worried, not just for himself and Anna, whom he still couldn't believe was braving this treacherous weather, but for the people of Arendelle as well. He was all nerves, anxiously awaiting Lars to hear just how much he'd screwed this up. There was so much he needed to do, he felt torn into a million pieces. He needed to be here, ruling Arendelle in the Queen's absence. He needed to be out among the people, handing out cloaks and food. He needed to be with Anna, making sure she wasn't freezing to death or… he couldn't even imagine what kind of trouble she could be in already.

The loud bang from Lars barging into the room made him jump. He stood, quickly, prepared for the sound ear-bashing he was to receive.

"Lars, I-"

"What were you thinking?" Lars asked, his tone more even than Hans was expecting.

"I-I don't know-" Hans began.

"That is not an answer," Lars corrected. Hans looked down, unsure of what to say. "Your orders were clear, were they not?" Lars asked. Hans didn't respond. "So I will ask again. What were you thinking?" his tone became more menacing.

"I fell in love," Hans tried, but Lars' condescending gaze made him doubt himself. "Or at least, I-I think I did," he added sheepishly. Surely, Lars should understand that love, indeed, was a probable answer.

"Oh, Hans. If you believe that you fell in love you are more idiotic and naïve than even _I_ thought," he said coldly.

"It's true!" Hans said, defensively. "I know it sounds crazy, but Princess Anna loves me and we-"

"She doesn't _love_ you Hans. And you don't love her! You don't even _know_ each other!"

"You're wrong. We felt something tonight. She does loves me-"

"She doesn't! She doesn't know any better. It was her first day outside of the castle walls and all she found was _you_. Who is to say once she gets wind of any other man she bumps into she is not going to fall for him as well? You are setting yourself up for disaster, and shaming the Westergaard name in the process!" Hans was speechless. Lars walked towards Hans, his eyes narrowing. "Your family would be ashamed if they knew just how weak you _really_ are. They have always thought so little of you, how disappointing that you must prove it so quickly."

Hans' legs suddenly felt weak. He sat on the sofa by the fireplace, feeling sick to his stomach. Lars was right; how foolish he was acting. In LOVE? He didn't even know what love was, and yet he was willing to throw away everything because he assumed his infatuation with Anna was true love. Lars sighed, turning to poke at the dying fire.

"Such a shame I have to report this to your father," he said, sadly. Hans looked up at him, his eyes pleading.

"Please, don't tell them. They want to see me fail, it would kill what little dignity I have in their eyes," Hans begged. Lars' lips curled into a wry smile.

"I suppose there is a way we can try to fix this," Lars suggested coolly.

"Anything," Hans agreed, just thankful for any opportunity to undo what he'd done in such little time.

"You'll need to kill Queen Elsa."

_**Next chapter coming asap. Please review!**_


	5. Freezing Heart

**Chapter 4:**

Freezing Heart

_You'll have to kill Queen Elsa._

He felt nauseous from his conversation with Lars, who offered up this cold, heartless solution to the problem he faced. He'd always known Lars was dark, but this plan was downright diabolical.

"Kill Queen Elsa?" Hans asked Lars in disbelief that the words had even fell from his mouth. Hans then suddenly remembered watching Lars his whole life, always whispering in his father's ear, always around. He began to wonder just how many of the ruthless things he'd watched his father accomplish as king had been through the influence of Lars.

One time, when Hans was quite small, he remembered wandering through the castle hallways late at night trying to find his mother. He happened upon his father's study, the door slightly ajar. He reached for the handle, hoping to see his mother nestled by the fire reading a book as usual, but instead he heard the hushed voices of his father and Lars, plotting.

"Your majesty, King Julian has had plenty of warnings. It is time to make good on your threats," he'd heard Lars harshly whisper.

"But the countless, civilian lives at stake-" the king began.

"Collateral damage, your highness. He knew this was the risk!"

"I don't want that blood upon my hands," the king sighed.

"Are you weak? Do you want the other kingdoms to believe you won't hold true to your threats if they do not uphold their part of a treaty?" There was a long silence.

"When should we begin getting our men ready?"

Young Hans had a very little idea of what they were talking about, but the conversation stuck with him his whole life. It was at that moment, as a child even, that he realized that Lars was a force to be reckoned with, and his powers of manipulation were strong. But even knowing these things about him, it was almost impossible to not fall into his trap. Ultimately, the man knew what he was doing.

So when Lars told him he needed to kill Queen Elsa, Hans knew that as deplorable and awful as it was, Lars had a reason behind it.

"You will be a hero in the eyes of the kingdom," Lars assured.

"Anna would never forgive me," Hans said, shaking his head, "they'd lock me up for sure. I-it would accomplish nothing!"

"Not if it was an _accident_," Lars said darkly, his eyes intense. Hans chewed on that a moment. "She is dangerous, Hans. She obviously has no control over herself, of her powers. Any other leader would march up that mountain, drag her down and hang her for witchcraft. She is killing her own people! Something must be done about this. And you are the hero that should do it."

"But…Anna…" he thought aloud.

"Of course you'll _have_ to marry her, she is your only way to the throne now. It shouldn't be a problem if she loves you the way you say she does. Then, you can still rule as king, isn't that what you want? Isn't that what you've always dreamed of?" Lars asked. "You said so yourself, you and Anna are in love, am I correct?" Hans' head lowered, his eyes averting to the floor. His head hurt, he was so confused.

"Yes, w-we are," he said with less conviction than before. He sighed an exasperated sigh and ran a bothered hand through his hair. He knew he cared for her, he knew their connection was real. But was Lars right? Could he have just been the first man she met outside the castle gates? "I don't know! I don't know _anything_ anymore."

"My confused boy, let me help you," Lars purred, his boney hand finding Hans' slumped shoulder. "You will be the leader Arendelle needs, you will feed the hungry and cloak the cold. If Anna has not arrived home by sunset tomorrow, we will send you and a few men after her. She will be returned safely to the castle, and you will go up the North Mountain and destroy the sorceress, and end this winter by any means necessary." Hans said nothing. Lars sighed. "Consider her death…an acceptable loss. Anna will mourn, but she will turn to you for strength and support. She will take her sister's place as queen with you by her side."

Hans was at war with himself.

The part of Hans that thirsted for power, for admiration and respect, knew that one could simply look at this as a tactical maneuver, some would even call it _ambition_. Many men had done much worse for power, and Elsa really was killing her own people; they would never survive much longer in these conditions. He arose, walking slowly to the window, watching the blistering snow, no end in sight. He stood at the glass, catching himself in the reflection. His eyes looked tired, morose.

_So much for a new, carefree life._

The good part of Hans, however, knew that he would never be able to look into Anna's eyes knowing that he'd killed her sister, no matter how justifiable and heroic the act itself may seem.

"This…" he felt his eyebrows furrow into a frown, his eyes involuntarily misting. "This is wrong." Lars came up behind him, placing both hands upon his shoulders this time.

"Thirteenth in line," he said darkly. "That's always been such burden on you. Knowing that your brothers _despise_ you, that they don't expect any greatness from you. It has taken its toll on you, hasn't it?" Lars' voice was strangely sympathetic. Hans felt his head nodding in agreement. It _had_ been hard. "But, just imagine how surprised they would be to know that your mission in Arendelle was a success, hmm? You'd have the respect, the power, the love that you've always wanted, wouldn't you?" Lars smirked, turning and walking to the door.

"Why does it have to be so hard?" Hans asked, more to himself than to Lars.

"Part of having power is having to make hard decisions," Lars sighed. Hans didn't respond. "I'll leave you with your thoughts, your majesty," and disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.

Hans didn't bother dressing for sleep, just slipped off his boots and collapsed on the bed. He was _exhausted_, but he was quite certain he would be getting no sleep tonight; there was still too much too do, still too much bouncing around inside of his restless mind, especially now. He tossed, he turned. He found it hard to rest easy knowing so many were cold, knowing Anna was somewhere out there.

He began to play back the events of the evening in his mind, from meeting Anna on that dock to watching her ride off into the cold. Was it really only a mere 24 hours ago that things felt so promising? He wished deep down that he could just start the day over, try again with different results. This is why his family hated him. He always made a mess of things.

He blamed himself, probably more than he should. He hadn't the slightest idea that Elsa would freeze Arendelle, that he would be left to care for a kingdom in peril. Perhaps he really wasn't king material, perhaps he wasn't cut out for this.

And all he kept thinking was that now he had to make a decision about Elsa. Morning was coming, relentlessly, and the snow showed no sign of stopping.

* * *

><p>When Hans awoke, only a couple of hours had passed. He was groggy, still tired, but day had finally broken; he knew that the kingdom could not wait for him to catch up on much-needed rest OR think about all that had happened. He dressed quickly, arming himself with his sword, hurrying down the confusing and maze-like corridors to meet with the guards in the courtyard.<p>

"Your Majesty," Kai greeted. "I trust you slept well?" he attempted politely.

"Thank you," Hans responded, unsure of what else to say. '_No, actually. I hardly slept at all and mulled over my plot to kill your queen and marry your princess._' He took in a deep breath, his lungs filling with cold air. It was slightly refreshing, and certainly helped wake him the rest of the way up. "Any news from the North Mountain?" Hans asked, happy to see that snow had ceased, even though the kingdom was blanketed in deep, thick snow.

"None yet, my liege. We have sent some men to scout the area for food and firewood," Kai reported. "What is our next move?" he asked, his eyes full of hope. Hans glanced around, the townspeople were huddled together by weak fires, trying to plow roadways for their horses and securing their homes. They looked tired, weary.

"We will-" he paused, thinking about what Lars had said the night before. "Continue to cloak and feed our people, do what we can to stay warm. We are working on a plan to return the Queen and the Princess safely and thaw this winter," he said assertively. He ran to the back of a wagon where he picked up a stack of blankets and cloaks. He began to move through the crowd.

"Cloak? Does anyone need a cloak?" he asked aloud, trying to help as much as he knew how. To be honest, he was mostly just winging it at this point. All he could do now was make himself useful and keep the townspeople safe, warm and alive. A woman approached, one he recognized from the ball. Her name was Gerda.

"Arendelle is indebted to you, your highness," she said, heartfelt.

"The castle is open. There's soup and hot glogg in the Great Hall," he announced. He approached a guard that looked unoccupied, handing him his stack of cloaks.

"Here, pass these out," he instructed. He turned to see the Duke approaching. He internally rolled his eyes, knowing full well he was not in the mood to deal with him right now.

"Prince Hans, are we just expected to sit here and freeze while you give away all of Arendelle's tradable goods?" he asked, accusingly. Hans stood tall, trying to at least appear confident and collected.

"Princess Anna has given her orders and-"

"And that's another thing; has it dawned on you that your princess may be conspiring with a wicked sorceress to destroy us all?" That was it. Hans had finally had enough of this. His eyes narrowed, his voice lowered.

"Do not question the Princess. She left me in charge, and I will not hesitate to protect Arendelle from treason." As he spoke the words, he didn't recognize his own voice, his own tone. It came from a place deep inside of him that he didn't even know existed, but the fear in the Duke's eyes when he threatened him gave Hans a small rush. Is that what power feels like? To be able to coerce people into doing what you want, just like that? All he knew was he liked the way it felt.

Suddenly and without warning, Hans and the guards could hear that alarmed whinnying of a horse. Hans turned to see Anna's horse, frightened. It was kicking and bucking, startled by something. But one thing that Hans couldn't help but notice was that the horse was alone.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa, boy. Easy. Easy," he coaxed, grabbing his reins to help calm him down. He could hear the upset murmuring of people in the crowd.

"Princess Anna's horse!" one said.

"What happened to her? Where is she?" said another.

Hans was distraught; he knew better than to let her go off on her own. He looked up at the mountains, knowing she was somewhere up there.

_Alone. Cold. Defenseless. _

He then looked down to all the troubled faces of the townspeople, guards and coronation guests. All eyes upon him, looking _to_ him.

"Princess Anna is in trouble," he uttered aloud. "I need volunteers to go with me to find her!" he announced. The Duke instantly offered up his two henchmen, but Hans didn't care who it was as long as they hurried quickly, time was running out and they needed to find her. Not _just_ because he cared for her…but because any chance of him getting to the throne died right along with her.

* * *

><p>The snow came up to Sitron's knees as he and Hans forged through the powdery snow. While the blizzard itself had ceased, the sky was white with clouds and it was clear that it could begin again at any given moment.<p>

Hans kept moving forward, his posse close behind him. None of them spoke too often, other than shouting orders back and forth once in a while. Hans relished in the luxury of having time to sort through his thoughts up to this point. He'd been so tired before that he really hadn't had the opportunity to figure out just how he felt about everything. In all honesty, even Hans didn't know what he was thinking at this point. His confusion over the situation, over his feelings for Anna, just made it all that much worse.

He was on phase two of Lars' plan. Going after Anna. It had only been a few hours since she vanished, but he never should have let her go alone. Why didn't he just go with her? If he'd just gone then he wouldn't have had that little heart-to-heart with Lars, and maybe he wouldn't be so messed up inside now.

But Anna wouldn't _LET_ him go, either. Even had he protested, she refused. This was something she had to do alone, she'd insisted.

However, he also realized that he _would_ have insisted on going with her more strongly, but she said something that made him stay.

_"I need you here to take care of Arendelle."_

Just like _that_. A throne, no matter how temporary, just handed over to him. He was disgusted with himself. At this point, the woman he cared for was probably frozen or devoured by wolves and still all he could think about was that damn throne.

That part of himself was the part that scared him the most, the part he had tried to leave back in the Southern Isles. But there he was, making horrible decisions in the name of power and control. All he could think about in that moment was taking care of Arendelle, NOT because he cared for their well-being, but to win over the favor of the kingdom and be a hero.

_But I'm NOT a hero._

_NOT to the person that needed me most. _

No, all this time to think just made Hans realize that he still wasn't, and might not ever be, a truly good person. Because while the tormented Hans rode up the mountain searching for the woman he loved, he wasn't sure anymore if it was because he actually loved her or if he loved what she could do for him.

But couldn't it be both? Couldn't he love her AND what she could do for him? And couldn't he try to control Elsa without killing her, but use Lars' plan as a last resort? The problem, however, was that now he had tasted what power truly felt like. He'd had a kingdom look to him, he'd known how great it feels to be king…and he wasn't sure he could ever go back to what it felt like before.

The group approached a tavern, one that had faint tracks in the snow nearby. He instructed his men to stop and hopped off the horse. At the very least they could ask for directions up the North Mountain and re-supply, even just take a break somewhere warm for a few moments, they'd been traveling so long.

The warmth of the store was a welcome feeling for Hans, and his hands instantly began to ache from hours of being numb in the snow.

"Yoo-hoo," a large, mustachioed man greeted him as he walked in, bee-lining for the sanctuary of the fireplace. "Can I help you?"

"We are looking for a Princ-" he stopped himself, realizing that the mountain man may have no idea who princess Anna is. "-ehm, a woman. She may have come by this way last night. She was wearing a green gown, strawberry blonde hair-"

"Jah, she vas here," he nodded. "Bought out our entire vinter section." Relief washed over Hans, happy to know she'd at least made it this far, that they were on the right track. He hurried to the clerk's desk, leaning in eagerly.

"Wonderful, do you know which way she went?" he asked, desperately.

"Jah, her and her friend vent up the North Mountain, I saw them leave early this morning, before the sun came up."

"Great, I'll-" Hans paused, his brows lowering. He realized what the shop owner had just said. "Her and her…friend?" he asked. "Was it a blonde woman?" Perhaps she'd found Elsa?

"No, the man vith the veindeer and the sled,"

"Wait…_Man_…?" Hans repeated quietly.

"Jah, they stayed the night in my stable, then left in the vee hours," he smirked. "They thought I didn't see him but Oaken sees everything that goes on up here."

"They stayed the night…together? In a stable?" Hans asked, his confused tone becoming more disgusted than anything else. Oaken nodded, Hans took a step back. Although he was confused and profoundly hurt at this realization, he tried his best to brush it off quickly.

"We are also trying to get up the North Mountain, what is the quickest route?" Hans asked, all-business. The man shook his head.

"The storm is too bad, you'll have to try again another day." Hans' patience wore out, he'd had enough conversing with this guy. He turned to his men who were still warming up by the fire and picking up various supplies.

"Come on, men. Let's go," Hans ordered before angrily storming out the front door and into the snow outside. He took a moment to collect his thoughts on the porch of the tavern, taking his face in his hands and rubbing his eyes. He was now beyond exhausted, it showed on his face. He was angry, but he wasn't sure exactly why.

Then he realized just what it was that was burning him up inside.

On one hand, Hans realized he should be relieved that Anna wasn't alone on her hunt for Elsa, that at least someone was with her in case she got hurt or in trouble. But the fact still remained that Anna wouldn't let Hans go with her, wouldn't let him protect her. There were plenty of officials that could have taken care of the kingdom in their absence, but she wanted to do it alone.

And yet it was now increasingly clear that Lars' theory about Anna, about her running off with any other man she found outside of the castle walls, may be right. Which, in turn, triggered the awful, aching thought:

_What else was Lars right about?_

All this time, confused or not, Hans knew that Anna and he cared about one another, had a real connection, and regardless of his own, personal and political agendas, he planned on marrying her. This whole time since she took off he was beating himself up, imagining the worst happening to her, and knowing he should have gone with her. He should have been the one beside her, protecting her.

_The first day out of the castle she gets engaged to you, then stays the night with a strange man in a stable._

The voice returned, slewing as much self-doubt and anxiety as it could. He realized, no matter how much he wanted it to be true, it was naïve to believe that Anna loved him. She didn't love him, she didn't even know what love was.

Which meant that his mission in Arendelle could no longer be personal.

It was just business, now.

**a/n**

**Incredibly tough chapter to write, mostly because Hans' thought are simply ALL over the place, but I think it is because HE is simply all over the place. He is completely at war with himself over what he WANTS to do, what he SHOULD do and what Lars is trying to MAKE him do. The torn prince, eh? **

**Also thank you guys for your awesome, thoughtful and great reviews. As a writer it really helps encourage more to come! I hope you're all enjoying it.  
><strong>


	6. Cold As Ice

**Chapter 5:**

_Cold As Ice_

The trek the rest of the way up the North Mountain was grueling, mostly because the thick snow left the horses winded, and they needed to stop more frequently than Hans would have preferred. He tried his best to shake off the conversation with Oaken, but the more he thought about it, the more he quietly fumed.

So far, there'd been no sign of Anna. He realized, if he found her, that somehow he would have to keep his cool long enough to at least marry her, otherwise the plan was ruined and he would be going home empty handed and shamed. His fear now, however, was that with Anna running around with some random, strange man, that maybe her affections for _him_ had changed. He knew for certain his had; in his eyes and his heart, she had betrayed him. He never should have fallen so quickly, he never should have let his guard down. He just hoped she was naïve enough to say 'I do,' still. But Lars had been right, and that thought killed him the most.

This had turned into way more than he had bargained for, and he was becoming increasingly resentful of just how inconvenient this search and rescue mission was becoming. On the positive side, however, he'd gained favor with the kingdom. Now all he had to do was marry Anna and get Elsa to stop this winter.

The search party came upon a bridge of ice, and there was a change in the wind. Hans could see a glimmering, shining, castle made of ice in the distance. They'd found it. Hans suddenly felt nervous.

Perhaps he didn't have to _kill_ Elsa. The kingdom seemed to love the queen, and what if killing her, no matter how justifiable it may seem, sparked outrage? What if they turned on him? Yes, he still wanted to take her place, but maybe there was another way.

"We are here to find Princess Anna," Hans yelled out to his men. "Be on guard, but no harm is to come to the Queen. Do you understand?"

Suddenly, Hans felt a shift in the ground, a deep but gentle rumbling. A mass of snow began to rise behind him, taking the form of a huge, snowy being. Hans had never seen anything like it before.

"Go away!" the creature bellowed, slamming his giant fist down in the snow only a few inches away from Hans, who was able to narrowly escape the impact. All of the guards rushed the monster, only to be quickly knocked down into the fresh, powdery snow. The snow creature then sent a guard and his horse across the way, toppling over Hans who again remained unscathed. Militant training came flooding back to Hans in an instant, although he'd never properly trained for defeating a mystical, evil snowman. He watched in horror as the creature rose his foot to stomp on him, but he quickly barrel-rolled himself out of the way.

Out in front of him, Hans spotted his sword, the metal glistening in the snow. With all his force, he threw himself towards it and grabbed it. The monster rose his foot again, nearly crushing Hans under it. Out of breath and over-tired, Hans found a reserve of inner strength as he jumped to his feet, and with all the strength left in him, he sliced at the creatures leg, lopping it clean off his body. The snowman began to hobble, quickly losing his footing falling backwards over the ridiculously high cliff, but not without striking Hans who immediately fell over the edge.

With a stroke of sheer luck and agility, Hans grabbed onto the frozen steps, clinging to life. In a matter of seconds his men n were there, helping him up over the edge. In normal circumstances, one would need a few moments to regain their composure. Hans looked back, the cliff so deep that he couldn't even make anything out at the bottom; if he had fallen down the cliff it would have all been over. But there was no time for that, Hans had seen the Duke's henchmen rush the castle while he was dealing with the creature, and he had to get inside to make sure the plan was not going awry.

Hans and the men ran inside, hearing yells from up the steep, shiny stairs. They ran as fast as they could to the top, where they saw the destruction, Elsa holding off the two henchmen as they clung to life.

"Queen Elsa!" Hans called out to the beautiful frightened queen. "Don't be the monster they fear you are!" He wasn't sure why that choice of words fell from his lips; in all honesty, he hadn't really thought a whole lot about what he would say to her once he came in. She seemed to snap out of her rage, realizing that she was very close to killing two men that were only afraid, as she was. Hans watched the terrified queen, her franticness only confirmed to him that she really didn't have any control over herself or her powers, just as Lars had suspected.

Hans could see one of the henchmen raising his bow towards the queen.

_Not like this_, he thought, running towards him. It needed to be an accident, or not at all. But not like this. He knocked the crossbow up, the arrow shooting off at the chandelier above instead, falling down from the ceiling. Hans watched as Elsa dodged the icy sculpture, only to be knocked out from hitting her head upon the hard floor. Shards of sharp, icy pieces went flying and the crash echoed through the room. Hans turned to the henchman in a rage.

"What were you _thinking_?" he yelled, his face reddening. "What part of no harm to the Queen do you not understand?"

"I-I…" he stammered. Hans turned, wiping sweat from brow. He heaved a great sigh, loosening his cloak around his neck, trying to catch his breath. He walked towards the center of the room, the ice crunching like glass underneath his boots. He kneeled down towards the lovely queen, brushing her hair from her face.

Hans felt sorry for her, especially now. She was a danger to her kingdom, a danger to herself. Without any control of her powers or emotions she was surely going to be overthrown, the people would not survive with her as queen. He scooped her up in his arms, lifting her up.

"We need to take her back to the castle before she awakens, it is unsafe for her to be free, she has no control."

"But, your majesty, where will we take her?" a guard asked.

"To the dungeon."

* * *

><p>"What part of the plan were you unclear on?" Lars seethed.<p>

"I couldn't kill her," Hans defended. "I was afraid the kingdom would turn on me for killing their _beloved_ queen…a part of the plan I don't think you completely thought through," Hans challenged, his eyes narrowed into tiny slits. Lars stood silently, clenching his jaw as he watched the unconscious queen through the bars of the dungeon door.

"Well, what do you suppose we do with her now?" Lars asked, bitterly. "Since you are the one with the master plan, I see…"

"Her hands are bound, that seems to be the source of the ice. If we can just keep her from getting upset we might have a chance-"

"Are you mad or just an idiot?" Lars spat angrily. "She is dangerous, she has no control! You said so yourself when you brought her down from the mountain!"

"I just-" Hans attempted.

"You're just _USELESS_. You couldn't even follow through with a plan that has been laid out for you."

The men stood silently, watching Elsa stir in the cell. Hans felt a twinge of sadness, watching her. She wasn't a villain. She was confused, she was scared. He knew the feeling. But people like this, with uncontrollable powers, they couldn't stay free among the others. It _was_ too dangerous.

"I am going to talk to her," Hans said, Lars refused to reply, clearly unhappy about the most recent turn of events. Hans took a nearby torch, unlatching the locks upon the door and entering the cell. He walked in timidly, afraid to frighten the already timid Queen. She turned to him, the shackled gloves upon her hands keeping her from coming any closer to him.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked, upset.

"I couldn't just let them kill you," Hans said, honestly.

"But… I am a danger to Arendelle! Get Anna," she demanded. Hans stepped to her, holding his arms. He was freezing.

"Anna has not returned," Hans said, morosely. He watched her scared face twist into one of worry, her eyes averting towards the storm raging outside. "If you would just stop the winter and bring back summer…please," he said, another step towards her. Then maybe things could go back to how they were, just a day ago. Her pleading eyes met his, both asking of each other what they could not deliver.

"Don't you see, I _can't_. You have to tell them to let me go." Hans realized there was nothing more he could do. If she didn't know how to end this winter, there was only one way. And Lars was right again.

_Elsa had to die._

Defeated, Hans walked to the wooden door, taking his torch.

"I will do what I can," he lied, thankful it sounded more sincere than he expected.

As Hans stepped into the freezing hallway, shutting and locking the door behind him, he could hear the unmistakable sound of ice cracking behind him. She was getting upset, and she was going to take the whole castle down with her when she finally imploded upon herself.

"Well?" Lars cooed, sarcastically. "Did you get her to end the blizzard?" Hans hung his head down, "that's what I thought." Lars placed pressure from his fingertips against his temple. "I swear, Hans, it is getting exhausting cleaning up your messes. We will find a way to dispose of the Queen as soon as possible, although now that she's here I supposed we need not only just _cause,_ but full support from the visiting dignitaries as well," he said, his mind clearly racing. Hans swallowed hard.

"What about Princess Anna?" Hans dared ask.

"If she gets in our way, I suppose we will have to dispose of her, too," Lars said simply.

* * *

><p>Hans and the dignitaries sat in the fireplace-lit library, trying to come up with a solution to their problem. The castle creaked and groaned beneath them, reminding them constantly that their time was running out. They wouldn't survive even 12 more hours of this freezing weather, and although they all knew that more than likely destroying the source of the storm, destroying Elsa, would likely end the blizzard, no one wanted to be the first to suggest such a thing. Hans couldn't help but regret not letting the Duke's henchman kill her on the mountain, at least then the storm would be over.<p>

He felt defeated, pathetic for not being able to carry through with that part of the plan. He liked to think it was the good in him that caused him to hesitate taking an innocent life for the sake of the plan, but now it was becoming increasingly apparent that bringing her off the mountain was only progressing the destruction of Arendelle.

"I'm going back out to look for Princess Anna!" Hans said to the dignitaries and guards, indignantly. He couldn't keep Elsa down in that dungeon forever, and he needed Anna here and alive to ensure he could take his place as king beside her when Elsa was overthrown.

"You cannot risk going out there again," one dignitary said firmly. Hans was feeling increasingly desperate.

"If anything happens to her-" he didn't get a chance to finish his thought, which was probably for the best since the only thing he could really concentrate on was the throne… _and_ their impending doom.

"If anything happens to the Princess, you are all Arendelle has left," another dignitary said profoundly.

Hans hesitated; with one sentence, Hans realized that it didn't matter if he married Anna at all. He didn't need Anna to take rulership of Arendelle. After all, Anna had put him in charge in her absence, did that still stand if the temporary situation became…permanent? Why had this never occurred to him before? He didn't need her to carry through with the plan. And with his heart in pieces over how he felt about her anyway, he figured that was for the best.

But then, suddenly, the doors burst open and in came Gerda and Kai, ushering in a weak Anna, who appeared frantic.

"He's in here. Prince Hans!" Kai said urgently, pushing Anna towards him.

"Anna!" Hans said, hurrying towards her. She fell into his arms. Although he hated to admit it, genuine concern washed over him, and he against his better judgment, Hans was surprised to find himself relieved to see the beautiful princess for a moment.

"You're so cold," he said to her, feeling her cold, fragile body even through his gloved hands, trembling. He looked into her desperate, pleading eyes.

"Hans, you have to kiss me," she said, her eyes full of tears.

"What?" he asked, confused at her erratic behavior.

"Now. Here we go," she said, attempting to pull herself up to meet his lips with hers.

"We'll give you some privacy," Gerda said, everyone beginning to shuffle out, leaving them alone with the crackling sound of the warm fire.

"What happened out there?" Hans asked. It was a loaded question. What _did_ happen out there? Who was she with? Why did she stay the night in a stable with a random man? And why was this kiss so desperate? Then he realized…he didn't care what the answer was. The fact was that he would not be made a fool of any longer.

"Elsa struck me with her powers," she said below saddened, furrowed brows.

"I thought you said she'd never hurt you." _Just like you probably thought Anna would never hurt you_, the voice hissed in his mind, reminding him.

"I was wrong," Anna said, her knees failing beneath her. Hans caught her quickly, scooping her up and carrying her to the sofa. He sat beside her as she shivered. Her stared into her eyes; the warmth and naïve luster was gone. Her hair was white, her body freezing. She was dying, and it made his heart ache in his chest for her whether he wanted it to or not. "She froze my heart and only an act of true love can save me."

"A true love's kiss," Hans said quietly, realizing why she was so desperate for his lips. A million things ran through his mind, he felt trapped within it. Why didn't she just ask her secret lover for a kiss? In fact…_had she_? Had it not worked and that's the only reason she was here now, out of desperation?

Hans began to lean in, slowly, gently. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to heal her frozen heart and make it better for her. The sad, awful fact, however, was that Hans knew that the kiss wasn't going to work. They weren't in love.

And if it DID work, what if she just left him for her mystery man anyway? It was no longer a risk Hans was willing to take.

_You don't need her anymore. Arendelle is yours regardless._

_ Power or love. Power or love. Power or love. _

_ Power._

"Oh Anna," he sighed. "If only there was someone out there who loved you." He felt the words leave his lips and sting when they hit her ears. At that moment, Hans was no longer In control of himself, but powered by an insatiable drive to take the throne and take out some much needed aggression upon the subject of all of his angst, confusion. Anna was ultimately the wrench that was thrown into his plan from the very beginning. She ruined this plan, with her bubbly attitude and big, beautiful eyes. She threw him off, inadvertently ruined his plan and then left him for the first stable boy that came along.

And now she sat before him, begging for his true love's kiss.

"What?" she asked, her eyes large and confused. Hans stood, leaving her crumpled upon the sofa. "Y-you said you did." Hans quietly walked across the room, staring out the window at the snow whipping around outside in a flurry. He caught a glimpse of his reflection, staring back at him.

"As thirteenth in line in my _own_ kingdom, I knew I'd have to marry into the throne _somewhere_-" He began shutting the curtains; he didn't want to look at himself as he said these things to her.

"What are you talking about?" she said, her voice cracking. He tried his best not to look at her heartbroken and bewildered expression. He began snuffing out the candles around the room. The least he could do was hurry her death along. It was the more _humane_ thing to do, he reasoned.

"As heir, Elsa was preferable, of course. But no one was getting anywhere with her. But you-"

"Hans," she said pleadingly.

"You were so desperate for love you were willing to marry me, just like that." Hans realized as soon as he said it, he was describing himself, as well. He wanted love, that's all he'd ever wanted. But look what it got him.

_Nothing. Betrayal. _

No, the Hans that she met that night, the one that proposed on a whim? He was a weak man. He was the kind of man his brothers had used as a doormat his whole life. That Hans was naïve, pathetic. Just like her right now.

_ This_ Hans couldn't get hurt.

_ This_ Hans was powerful.

_ This_ Hans was invincible.

He crossed the room, taking a pitcher of water from a table. He sauntered towards the fireplace, menacingly.

"I figured, after we married, I'd have to stage a little accident for Elsa." Anna watched in horror as he began to douse the flames, realizing what he was doing, no doubt. She tried to stop him, falling to the floor and weakly trying to pull herself up.

"Hans. No, stop," she begged.

"But then she doomed herself, and you were dumb enough to go after her." _Alone_. He forgot to add ALONE. Maybe if she had let him come. Maybe if she hadn't inadvertently given him a taste of power and just handed a stranger the throne, the way she handed a stranger a night in a stable.

_She did this to herself. You've been pushed around and beaten down enough in your life. It ends now._

"Please," she cried.

"All that's left now is to kill Elsa and bring back summer." His eyes met hers; they were strong and tense, almost stopping him in his tracks. She had a will to live, she wasn't going down without a fight.

"You're no match for Elsa," she said angrily. He bent down, taking her chin in his hand.

"No, you're no match for Elsa. I, on the other hand, am the hero who is going to save Arendelle from destruction," and it wasn't until Hans said it aloud that he realized he actually believed it. This…this was for the best.

"You won't get away with this," she insisted. Hans rose, staring down at his now ex-fiancée, lying on the floor near death. Nothing he could do about it now, even if he wanted to.

"Oh, I already have," he declared haughtily, leaving the room and locking the door behind him.

Hans stood a moment, leaning against the tall, wooden door. He could hear her struggling after him, jiggling the handle. The door vibrated against his back as she attempted to get out, too weak to yell for help. Hans' stomach hurt, his heart raced. He'd never heard himself say such hurtful, awful things. He was surprised at himself, and hated to admit that the hot, sick feeling that washed over him instantly was more than likely guilt and regret.

"My my, your majesty," he heard a deep voice croak behind him. He turned to see Lars, leaning against the hallway close by. He hung his head in shame, he couldn't believe anyone had heard the horrible things he'd just said. Lars walked towards him slowly, deliberately. "I must say, even I didn't know you had that in you."

"I- I don't know what came over me-" he began to explain. He didn't. The whole situation felt so surreal, so out-of-body.

"I'm impressed," Lars said, his cold voice almost giddy.

"Wh-what do I do now?"

"Let the council know you exchanged your marriage vows. Then-" he paused, a toothy grin spreading across his aging face, "you said so yourself: do away with Elsa and bring back summer…King Hans."

* * *

><p><strong>AN - - Can't believe that we are nearing the end of Part I. I have to say, this has been such an interesting challenge as a writer to write. It is often difficult to portray things simultaneously with a story already told, but it's also really fun. I look forward to breaking away from the format of the movie soon to have more creative freedom and see where our characters go. Thanks so much for the reads and the support. Don't forget to review. It makes my day.**


	7. The Shamed Prince

**Chapter 6:**

_The Shamed Prince_

Hans stood outside the double doors of the council chamber. He had to take a moment, get himself prepared to tell the visiting dignitaries and castle guards that Anna had not only perished, but had left him a widower. He didn't have to search too deeply to find a well of emotion within himself; he really did feel a vast, dark melancholy about the way things had ended up. He thought back on the last whirlwind of a day and couldn't believe that so much had happened in such a short period of time. He stood, his head bowed, arm and hand extended out towards the door, leaning against it. He sighed, his heart heavy with failure.

Plan one, his father's plan: Marry Elsa, rule Arendelle and live happily ever after. He'd _thoroughly_ failed that one.

Plan two, Lars' plan: Marry Anna, dispose of Elsa, rule Arendelle and live happily ever after. He'd failed that one even _worse_. Anna was dead and Elsa was destroying the kingdom he was set to rule.

Plan three, which was never a plan at all but the circumstances he'd found himself in, regardless: Dispose of both Anna and Elsa and rule Arendelle by default, a throne that did not belong to him, a throne that never really would.

But what was _his_ plan? The tiny but grand glimmer of an idea he'd seen in the beautiful eyes of a hopeful, sweet princess only a day ago. The plan in the back of his mind as he kneeled on bended knee, warm from champagne and giddy from a sugar high as he asked her to be his bride. The plan that didn't solely focus upon power or thrones, just the hopeless sliver of an idea that maybe, just maybe, Hans was capable of loving and being loved, and that maybe that was enough.

He thought of his brothers, specifically the ones who had opted for more modest lives, the ones who married for love, or the ones who never married and found their vigor through their hobbies and pursuits. He thought about how it just never mattered to them like it did to him and it wasn't _fair_. It wasn't fair to want so desperately to rise to the top because all he'd ever known was the bottom.

So, in turn, he let what little bit of the good in him die along with her on that parlor room floor, cold and hard like his heart. But mostly, alone.

He heard the wooden floorboards beneath him groan once more, the freezing castle walls beginning to ice over from the inside out.

It was time.

Hans took in a sharp breath and pushed the doors open, his face somber and his hair slightly disheveled.

"Prince Hans," one dignitary said, all eyes falling upon him.

"Princess Anna is…dead," he announced, his voice distraught. He went to move towards them but stumbled along the way, his legs shaky and weak. The men hurried to him, comfortingly leading him towards the solace of a chair. He didn't have to put on a façade of being exhausted, he was so far beyond that now that it came naturally.

"What happened to her?" the Duke asked, the men leaning in intently, trying to piece together this tragic puzzle.

"She was killed by Queen Elsa," he informed, riddled with grief.

"Her own sister," the Duke gasped. He looked from face to face of the saddened men, confused at how such a joyous occasion could end in such tragedy.

"At least we got to say our marriage vows…before she died in my arms," he said, bowing his head. Hans brought a hand to his face, shielding the men from the dead givaway; he could not cry. In a way, he wanted to. He wanted to have that release, to shed a tear of remorse for the what he had done, for what he was about to do. But try as he may, the tears would not come.

"There can be no doubt about it now; Queen Elsa is a monster and we are all in grave danger," the Duke insisted, finally giving Hans the clearance he'd been waiting for, but had in the past hoped it would never come to.

"Prince Hans, Arendelle looks to you." It was too late to go back now. Anna was dead, the castle moments from collapsing upon them. He'd come this far.

"With a heavy heart, I charge Queen Elsa of Arendelle with treason and sentence her to death." Silence and sadness filled the room, it was a choice that none of the men had wanted to make but now there was nothing they could do. Their pending king had ordered it, and whether they wanted it to or not the stark fact was glaring them in the face:

It was either _her_ or _them_.

The castle moaned once more, in the distance they could hear the faint sounds of glass shattering, most likely a window bucking under pressure somewhere close-by, to remind them that no more time could waste away.

"Well, let's get on with it, then," the Duke sighed. "We must carry this out immediately, before we all die."

Hans stood silently, turning away from them and walking out the double doors, the men following closely behind. They passed the room where Anna lay, dead upon the floor; Hans tried not to look at the door, he didn't want to think about it, anymore. He just wanted to get this over with so he could sleep, mourn, think, _anything_ other than this. One of the guards approached the door to the library, his hand reaching for the door, most likely going to take Anna to her bedroom chamber until burial arrangements could be made. Hans turned to him quickly, his heart racing.

"Don't go in there!" he shouted. The man stared at him, his dark eyes wide and his mouth agape. Hans calmed himself, adjusting his coat and fixing his glove upon his hand. "I-I mean…let her rest in peace, give her a little dignity," Hans stammered, more collected. The men stared from one to the other, quietly continuing on their way towards the dungeon. After all, who would protest a man who'd just lost his wife?

Hans led them down the winding corridors, trying to memorize the layout. This was his home now, his castle, and he needed familiarize himself with it. Yes, after this was all over he would rest, let the kingdom recognize this as a time of mourning and get his head on straight.

They approached the doors leading down into the dungeon, the men staring at him nervously.

"This is where we leave you, your majesty," the Duke said.

_Good_, he thought to himself. _Less witnesses_. Hans swallowed hard, turned to the guards and motioned for them to follow him down the ice-riddled stairs.

It was slick, Hans almost lost his footing more than once. They congregated outside of the cell, shivering. Hans set his hand upon his sword, unsure of what to expect. The last thing he needed was being blasted by Elsa's magic, although at this point he sincerely doubted he even had a heart left to freeze. He nodded at the guards, it was time to get this over with.

"She's dangerous," one guard yelled through chattering teeth, "move quickly and with resolve." They began towards the door, suddenly blown back by an icy blast, the walls beside them crumbling. They hurried to their feet, Hans pushing through them to see what had happened. The back wall was blown open, the icy storm raging in through the gaping hole and Elsa was gone.

Hans glowered, of course it wasn't going to be simple. What during this entire catastrophe _had_ been? He marched forward, it was time to end this once and for all.

"Your majesty! What are you doing?" a guard yelled.

"I am going after her!" Hans bellowed back, jumping through the hole in the wall and landing up to his knees in white, powdery snow.

He could hardly see because the wind was so strong and sharp, stinging snowflakes nipped at his face as he searched for her cowering silhouette in the distance. He could hardly make it out, but sure enough about a hundred feet in front of him stood Elsa, the eye of the storm, stumbling and desperate to find somewhere to run. He forged onward, trying to catch up to her.

This was it.

Too late to turn back now.

He was at the finish line, he'd already done too much. For a moment, in that windy, turbulent storm, Hans felt calm, collected. He could hear nothing, not the snow whipping by nor the yells of the guards behind him, nor the pained cries of Elsa trying to find her way through.

"Elsa! You can't run from this!" he yelled out to her, approaching her carefully, stumbling over his own feet in the treacherous weather. She began to back away, slowly, scared.

"…just, take care of my sister!" she instructed.

_Anna._

Another mention of the woman he'd left to die only moments ago. He let that sink in for a second, the pain he was trying to portray to her becoming slightly, if not increasingly, authentic.

"Your sister? She returned from the mountain, cold and weak. She said you froze her heart!" he told her.

"What? No…" The pain in her eyes was almost unbearable to witness, even for Hans.

_Especially for me._

And he wished that story could be true, that it wasn't riddled with his lies and ulterior motives. Why couldn't things have just gone to plan?

"I tried to save her, but it was too late. Her skin was ice. Her hair turned white," he watch Elsa's face sink as she took full responsibility for Anna's death. "Your sister is dead…" and for a brief moment, Hans wanted to stop the charade, turn himself in. But what good would that do? It would get him a one way ticket to the end of a short rope, that's what. "Because of you," he added.

He watched as Elsa dropped to her knees, utterly devastated at the news. Hans watched in awe as the swirling wind around them ceased, the snowflakes freezing in midair. She put her head in her hands, her spirit crushed, her heart broken. The silence was completely deafening.

He'd finally found her vulnerable, unable to defend herself. It was time to end her misery, and with it, end his own. He thought about all those years as he slowly, carefully, unsheathed his sword. He thought about the time he'd spent alone, the way his brothers hated and taunted him his whole life.

No more torment. No more hurt. No more loneliness. No more heartache. No more disappointment. No more disrespect. No more anger. No more fear.

_For either of us_.

He drew the sword up, every bit of emotion and aggression building up to this one moment where he could end it all. With all of his remaining strength, he brought to sword down.

"No!" He heard a yell, and instead of the satisfying feeling of sword to flesh, he felt a ting of metal clashing with something even stronger. The sheer impact blew him back, instantly knocking his head onto the ground and everything went black.

* * *

><p>Hans opened his eyes, groggily making sense of his surroundings. The landscape, instead of cold and hostile was warm and clear, the sky the first thing coming into focus. The sun shone brightly down upon him, and he instantly realized he was vastly overdressed for such warm weather.<p>

His head throbbed, his mouth was dry. He could taste the metallic tinge of blood on his tongue. He rubbed his jaw, which ached, trying to find his footing. He stared down at his boots to see wooden planks below his feet, standing on the deck of a ship. He glanced around to see people conjugating, celebrating.

The winter was gone.

Had he done it? Was it over? Did he kill Elsa and end the storm?

His answer came quickly and he saw a familiar woman close by, embracing her sister, both of which were very much alive. He felt instantly sick to his stomach. It was over, and not in the way he had planned.

Once again, proving to himself and his family and everyone in the world that he was as useless as a leader as he was a lowly, 13th-to-the-throne prince.

He noticed that Anna was standing close to a huge, burly man with blonde hair and a stocking cap. Their eyes met, the man suddenly marching towards him with a deep anger in his eyes. Anna stopped him, turning to Hans, her eyes burning into him. He was shocked, but slightly relieved in a way as well, that she was alive. At least he could rest easy without her blood on her hands; he was so exhausted.

"Anna?" he asked, puzzled. "But…she froze your heart," he remembered suddenly. She folded her arms, her face hard, a way he'd never seen her before. The love in her eyes was gone, replaced with complete, justifiable, disgust and hurt.

"The only frozen heart around here is yours," she said, obviously proud of that witty remark. Hans was slightly surprised that that is all she said, considering all the things he'd done. But that wasn't the end, in one swift movement, Anna whirled around, her fist hitting Hans so hard and quickly, he didn't even see it coming. Surprised by the blow, Hans lost his footing and toppled over the edge of the boat and into the cold bay water.

As he reemerged from the water, he couldn't help but instantly remember that this was like falling into the bay only a day ago, only this time the situation was much different. How could so much have changed in a matter of 24 hours? He rubbed his cheek, taken aback by the stinging sensation and the realization that a knot was already forming. She'd got him good.

Hans swam to shore, kicking his legs fiercely, hoping to get back to his ship in once piece. He realized, quickly, that that was more than likely not going to happen. He glanced up at the dock to see four castle guards, all bearing the seal of Arendelle, waiting for him.

One held shackles.

* * *

><p>She didn't sentence him to death. The look in her eyes said that she wanted to.<p>

_Treason_.

But the look on Anna's showed some kind of lenience, softness even after all that had happened, as if she'd had some kind of bearing on this decision.

"In most cases, the sentence for treason is death," Queen Elsa had explained before him. He knew that. "However, given the fact that you claim you did not act alone, I am exiling you back to the Southern Isles to await your proper sentencing there." Her icy cold gaze was chilling. "I don't need your filthy blood upon my hands."

"I didn't act alone," he'd reiterated, not at all phased by the fact that he had only narrowly evaded death. In fact, death would have been a more humane choice for one in his position. Facing his father and brothers was a fate _worse_ than death.

"Well, where is your accomplice? Lars, you say?" Elsa asked. Hans' eyes moved from sister to sister, Anna purposefully avoiding his glances. She'd cleared her throat and stared at her sister, ignoring him.

"I-" he began. It didn't matter. He had no idea where Lars was, probably hiding out, knowing the plan had gone awry and he was jeopardy of taking the fall right along with him. Instead of facing what he'd done, he had ran off somewhere.

_Like a coward._

And that was that.

So, the cell was a welcome sight to him, simply because it had a bed, and he so desperately wanted to hide away and lick his wounds in peace. It didn't matter that half of the castle's dungeon was in ruins; there was an entire other half of the dungeon left untouched. That was where they took him to await repairs on his ship.

In all honestly, Hans felt nothing at first as a guard roughly shoved him into the cell, the loud clanking of the lock sounding off behind him. He was numb. All he wanted was to sleep forever, he'd deal with the consequences later. Sleep was a gentle, wonderful escape from the horrifying realization that not only had he failed, shamed his father, and shamed himself, but now he had to go back to the Southern Isles and face what he'd done. He'd have to face his brother.

The guards didn't let him change out of his still-wet clothing; he'd removed his cloak and boots, socks and other small articles of clothing to let them dry.

He lay upon the cot, his arm draped across his face to finally, finally, get some rest and collect his bearing. He let out a deep, long sigh.

"How's your face?" he heard a quiet, but familiar, voice chime. He lifted his arm a bit, peeking out to confirm what he already knew; Anna stood, staring at him with wide eyes and an unsure look on her face through the bars of the cell. She spoke as though she, herself, knew that she shouldn't be there. In fact, he wasn't at all certain _why_ she was there, nor did he care. He scoffed, falling back into his original position.

"You punch like a girl," he antagonized.

"Well, then you take a hit like a girl," she retorted, huffily. They sat in silence, Hans just praying she would go away. It was bad enough he had failed so miserably; her face was literally the last face he wanted to see right now. Although he hated to admit it, it was partly because he felt ashamed, partly because he hated her, and partly because she still made his stomach flutter.

He hated that part most of all.

"I just want to know why," he heard her weakly say, her voice breaking at the end of the sentence. He didn't have to look at her to know her eyes were most likely brimming with tears at this point.

"You know, I don't really want to talk about this," he peered at her through a raised eyebrow.

"I don't think you're in a position to be telling me what you want and don't want to do," she observed, her eyes scanning the deplorable cell conditions. Hans sighed from the annoyance, let alone the questioning, bringing his arm down and sitting up slowly. He sat, his legs parted, elbows on his knees. He clasped his hands together, wringing them together.

"I don't know," he finally said, exasperated. He looked up at her once again; her face spoke volumes. That answer wasn't good enough. He stood, nearing her, slowly. His eyes were intense, narrow. She took a step back from the bars, timidly holding herself.

"That's not an answer," she spoke, her head high, her voice commanding. Scolding. He smirked at her; she was trying to look brave, strong in her convictions, the way a child looks when they play dress up in adult clothes.

"Power. Admiration." he began listing. A stony, cruel look in his eye flashed as he spoke the last, the most poignant of all. "Love," he dared. She stepped towards him, her face flushed, tears reforming, angry ones this time.

"Well, how does it feel to have _nothing_?" she asked, bitterly. He waved a cavalier hand, ignoring her question. "Hey, I am talking to you!" she said, presumably frustrated with his lack of empathy.

"More or less the same, I guess. I'm used to it by now," he said, his voice dripping in sarcasm, shrugging his shoulders uncaringly. She narrowed her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "Look, if you thought you could come down here and get to me, come down here and get all your heartbroken aggression out and be able to walk away from this all in peace and friendship, you were sadly mistaken," he informed, coldly. "Being forgotten, ignored, hurt? That's nothing new to me. I've been dealing with it my whole damn life. My life before Arendelle was a prison cell, this is no different to me."

"_How_ could I have been so wrong about you?" she asked, rhetorically of course, she didn't expect him to answer it. His eyes widened, his mouth agape.

"Oh, I should say the same about you, _princess_!" he spat indignantly. Her face twisted into a look of disgust, her nose wrinkling, her brows furrowed.

"What are you _talking_ about?"

"How was your little adventure and sleepover with your little boyfriend?" Hans asked. Pure confusion painted her face, she thought hard, trying to figure out who on earth he was referring to. "You know, the one you sleep in stables with?" he coaxed.

"_Kristoff_?" she asked.

"Oh, I see it has a name," Hans scoffed, turning from her and walking back towards his bed. "And not even a good one," he mumbled under his breath.

"Hans, _nothing_ happened with Kristoff, I love _you_." She spoke the words slowly, deliberately, her eyes burning into him. Her saddened expression pained him, but only slightly.

"Love?" he mocked, nearing the bars once more.

"Well, _loved_," she clarified quickly, her eyes darting away from his, holding out the "d" to accentuate the past tense. What did it matter now, anyway? Too much damage had been done. He took hold of the bars, his face peering through at her, only inches away from hers.

"You didn't love me, you just met me first. I could have been anyone. You ran off with the next man you came across. That isn't love, Anna." Not that he was an expert on love, he clearly was incapable of loving himself, let alone anyone else. That didn't keep him from calling a spade a spade.

"You are _delusional_, Hans!" she fumed, enraged once more. "I do know what love is! Unlike you, who left me to die, tried to kill my sister and take over my kingdom! A-and at least Kristoff knows what it means to be _selfless_. He came back for me-" she sputtered off quickly, her voice shaking.

"Oh, oh really? Seems like a great guy," Hans baited.

"He is!" she insisted.

"So, then you and this Kristoff…are you _together_ now?" Hans asked, she paused, instantly knowing where he was going with this.

"Well-" she choked, her cheeks pinkening.

"A mere two days after our engagement?" he gasped in fake surprise.

"Well, I mean, I wouldn't say we're…together…" she said meekly, her words trailing off and losing their confidence. She squirmed under his gaze, awkwardly tucking a piece of lose hair behind her ear. "What is your point, anyway? I am not the one in a cell, here. I didn't do anything wrong other than love you," she spat.

"My point exactly," he said, his voice low. He reached his hand out through the bar, the same hand that had only a short while ago had clutched the handle of a sword high over her sister's head, the hand that had doused a flame as she lay dying. She flinched at first, but didn't move as he gently pressed his hand against her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He was surprised he even attempted to touch her, let alone the fact that she let him. He stared deeply into her eyes, suddenly overcome with a forlorn longing that he wasn't quite sure what to do with. But he didn't let it last long.

"And that is?" she found herself inquiring.

"You don't even know what love is." She took in a deep breath, this wasn't a conversation she was going to entertain anymore. Anna moved her hand up, pulling his away from her face.

"Well at least I know what it isn't," she said, standing tall, her words concrete. "You broke my heart," she added, almost in a whimper. A slow, wry smile crossed his lips, his chagrin returning to the cold, heartless Hans she'd met in the parlor.

"Oh Anna," he sighed. "You broke mine first." She stared at him, her gaze unbreaking, undoubtedly trying to piece together how the master manipulator had turned this around so quickly. He turned away from her, retiring to his cot. He didn't look at her as he uttered, "You'd better go. Kristoff's waiting."

**End of Part I**


	8. PART II: The King Is Dead

**The Torn Prince: **_**Part II**_

_The King Is Dead_

**_A/N - _**

**_Thank you all for your reading and your wonderful support. I've had a lot of fun writing this, and I have been excited to get onto my own more creative part that doesn't parallel the movie. I am excited to see where this goes! Please review!_**

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><p>The disgraced Prince Hans scratched the scruff around his neck and chin incessantly, annoyed with its presence. He hadn't shaved in four weeks, the entire passage from Arendelle back to the Southern Isles. He wasn't used to the lack of grooming, nor did he like it. However, being a prisoner instead of a passenger had a lot to do with his inability to clean himself up. That was a luxury he was no longer allotted, prince or not.<p>

The tiny brig held only him, a washbasin, a cot and his daily meals. His legs ached from not being able to walk or run, his pale skin becoming nearly translucent from the lack of proper sunlight. He was miserable, and he owed it all to himself.

_ And Lars._

_ And Elsa's ice powers._

_ And Anna coming in and complicating __**everything**__. _

It was only be a matter of hours now before they arrived back in the Southern Isles, he estimated; he'd kept a tally of the days on his wall, something he'd seen other prisoners do in his time but had never understood. Why even bother counting the days? All it did was remind yourself that your freedom was stripped of you for so long, with so much more time to go.

He wondered what his father would do, what he would say to him. He'd had the time to concoct a story, especially without Lars here to discredit him. He would let Lars take the fall, after all, Lars did have significant bearing on what had happened in Arendelle, but it was Hans left holding the bag. If he ever ran into Lars again he'd…

Well, it wouldn't be pretty.

He heaved a great sigh, his back propped up against the wooden wall of the cell. He hadn't thought about the events in Arendelle too much since the beginning of the voyage; that was when the reminders of his failure had plagued him the most. The thoughts seemed to dissipate the farther they sailed away from that miserable place, and he liked it that way. Hopefully he'd return home, receive his slap on the wrist and hide out until his brothers got bored of tormenting him over his failings.

The hard part, however, would be looking his father in the eyes, especially after his instructions to Hans over what he would do in Arendelle seemed sincere, heartfelt, even. He hated that once again he was a disappointment. Something he had a hard time wrapping his brain around was that a lot of his actions in Arendelle were to keep word of his disgrace from getting back to the king in the first place, and yet it didn't end up mattering anyway. At least before, it would have been that he couldn't woo the queen. Now it was not only that, but that he tried to murder her and take her throne as well.

Not to mention getting engaged to the princess and leaving her for dead.

He could hear yelling from the crew, instructions to port. They were home, and he would really have to face the music, now. He stood, stretching as best he could in the small living quarter. He was just relieved that he could leave the ship finally, even if the circumstances were less than ideal.

A guard approached the cell, keys in hand.

"Home already?" Hans attempted to joke, his voice cracking and low from lack of use. The guard raised an eyebrow, his face unamused.

"We're about to port. I'm to take you straight to your chamber to clean up before you face the King for your sentencing," the guard said matter-of-factly. Hans was thankful he would be able to shave the monstrosity of a beard off before he had to face his father, at least he wouldn't _look_ like a prisoner.

_ Or smell like one, for that matter._

"Oh, goody. Do I get supper before or after the sentencing?" Hans quipped arrogantly. The guard didn't entertain the comment with a response, rolling his eyes and unlocking the door. It creaked open, and Hans began out, grabbing his admiral jacket.

"Not so fast," the guard said happily, stopping Hans in his tracks. He held up the metal shackles that Hans had hoped he'd never see again in his life.

"Are those really necessary?" Hans asked meekly, embarrassed at the idea of trekking from the ship to the castle, through the town with everyone watching. The guard answered with a cuff tightly locked around one of Hans' wrists, then the other.

"Probably not," the guard shrugged. "But you never know, with a dangerous criminal like you…" Hans gave the guard a dirty, displeased look and the guard shoved him forward. "After you, _your majesty_."

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><p>Hans stood in his bedroom chamber, heavily guarded of course. He didn't even care that he didn't get any privacy, the sheer happiness he felt from a clean shave was enough to endure the stares of the guards. He wiped his freshly shaved face off with a hot rag, so elated to be rid of the beard. He'd even gone as far as to shave off most of his sideburns as well, simply because the freeing feeling of nothing on his face made him feel human again, refined.<p>

He bathed, changed, slicking back his still-damp hair and relishing in the comforting, delightful feeling of clean clothes. He was actually happier to be home than he'd expected, perhaps it would not be as bad as he'd thought. In fact, with years of torment, how could it possibly be any worse? He hadn't gotten to the hard part yet, but as soon as he faced the king he could begin to move past this little setback.

"Time to go," one of the guards instructed, walking towards Hans to recuff him. Hans backed up slowly.

"I am in my own home," he said quietly. "I insist you don't cuff me, we are only walking down the hallway."

"King's orders," the guard said back, in a way that was slightly sympathetic, as if to say '_just doin' my job, kid_.' But King's orders? His father insisted on him being cuffed? He must be taking the news worse than he thought. He gulped, nodding, placing his hands out in front of himself without further protest.

Together, the guards and Hans ventured out into the hallway, the corridor looking longer than ever. Wait staff walked by, butlers watching him as he walked, he looked towards the parlor and noticed a black cloth shrouding the family portrait that usually hung over the fireplace. As a matter of fact, Hans couldn't help but notice the castle help they had passed were all draped in black, the guards included. This was quite a change from their usually green and golden attire.

"What's going on?" Hans asked aloud, one of the guards looked back over his shoulder at him, wordlessly. They passed another sitting room where he noticed his sister in law, Princess Adelaide whom was married to his brother Felix, crying into a handkerchief with a nursemaid on the sofa. Her puffy, sad eyes looked up at Hans for a brief moment before she broke into sobs once more. Hans felt instantly worried. "H-hey, I demand you answer me!" Hans insisted. They entered the throne room, where his brothers all stood lining the walkway. Hans looked at his feet, refusing to make eye contact with them.

The throne sat empty.

The guard led Hans to the foot of the throne, pushing him down to his knees roughly. His heart began to race, his palms becoming sweaty. From the door beside the throne walked Elias III, Hans' eldest brother. He slowly approached, standing between Hans and the throne.

"I've just read the charges," Elias spoke, shaking his head. "Treason. Conspiracy of murder. Fraud. Quite a list you wracked up over there, _Hansy_." Hans flinched at the less than endearing nickname. It was what his mother would call him out of love, but his brother's had adopted when mocking or teasing him. He refused to look at his brother, seething below him.

"I want to talk to the King," Hans said defiantly. Elias reached down and grabbed Hans' face with his gloved hand, forcing him to look at him.

"Oh, Hans," he cooed. "You already are."

Hans' eyes widened as he looked around the room, portraits of the king shrouded, his brothers all in black, their eyes tired and sad. Hans tried to stand, but Elias shoved him back down, turning and walking to the throne to sit.

"Where is he? Where is father?" Hans said, becoming distressed.

"Father passed away this morning," Elias said, somberly. He sat tall, more regal than Hans had ever seen him before. His black hair was slicked back, his nicely trimmed goatee and mustache groomed to perfection under his cat-like, green eyes. "I am just grateful he passed away before he had to hear what an utter failure you are," he spoke coldly. Hans felt involuntary tears forming in his eyes, wiping them away quickly with his sleeve. The last thing he wanted was to see his brothers get the satisfaction of watching him cry.

"I want to say goodbye," Hans spoke out. Elias scoffed. "I demand to see him."

"You will demand _nothing_," he shouted. "Do you understand what a mess you've made? You've soiled our namesake, our kingdom! Arendelle has cut us off, they refuse to do trade with us any longer. Our kingdom will now suffer because of you and your antics, you will not demand _anything_ from me."

"What were you thinking?" Prince Edvard asked, clutching his rosary, his voice more soft spoken and caring than that of most of his brothers; Hans had always preferred Edvard, as years of religious conditioning had made him softer and more loving than the rest.

"Hansy? _Thinking_? Ha!" Prince Sedak spat, hiding behind his long, dark hair and black eyes. "Now, there's a laugh," he growled. Hans could hear some of his brothers snickering.

"Silence!" Elias bellowed, the brothers all standing at full attention once more. His eyes fell back upon Hans. "What do you have to say for yourself, Hans?" he asked. "Why should I spare you the punishment as suggested by Queen Elsa?"

"Wh-what…did she suggest?" Hans asked curiously, nervously.

"Death, of course," Elias said nonchalantly, after all, it wasn't _his_ life hanging in the balance.

"Surely, you cannot kill me," Hans laughed nervously. Elias simply stared back at him, an eyebrow slowly raising. "You can't kill me!" Hans reiterated, more desperately. "You weren't there, none of you were there!" he shouted. "The storm was killing the villagers, the castle was on the verge of collapse, something needed to be done!"

"And the part where you left the princess to die?" Elias asked. Hans winced; he had hoped that wouldn't come up.

"That was…_personal_," he swallowed, hard, remembering her cold, terrified body clinging to life as he simply stepped over her. He shook the thought off immediately. "Elsa had frozen her heart and she needed her true love's kiss to save her. I am not her true love, therefore my hands were tied. It's not against the law to _not_ love someone, is it?" Hans asked, earnestly.

"No, you're right," Elias began. "It is not against the law to be a disgusting, deplorable human being." Hans bowed his head, unsure of what to say to that. "It is, however, against the law to conspire murder, fraud fellow dignitaries and kingdoms, attempt to assassinate a neighboring kingdom's ruler…" he began to list once more.

"Those are all crimes against Arendelle, and they sentenced me to be exiled from their kingdom. I have done nothing wrong in the eyes of the law in the Southern Isles, have I?" Hans mused, hoping he'd figured out a loophole.

"Well, that depends. When you went to Arendelle, our kingdom's name was resting upon you. You made us look like monsters, you didn't have our best interest in mind, and you severed our relationship with our most important trade partner…I think I would classify that as treason against our own crown, wouldn't you say?" Hans said nothing, scowling at his pompous brother before him. "And what is the sentence for treason?" he paused, watching the indigent look in Hans' eyes switch to fear.

"I didn't act alone!" Hans yelled, franticly. "This was Lars' plan, which I executed…_badly_. But I did not act alone, it wasn't how things were supposed to go! I was coerced," Hans insisted, trying to wriggle free of his shackles. Guards hurried towards him, holding him down as he struggled. The new King Elias rose, walking towards him menacingly. His cold, angry eyes peered down at Hans.

"You have been an ugly smudge on our namesake from the moment you were born of that _commoner_. I have no qualms of ridding this world of you, right here and now," Elias spat, hardheartedly.

"Elias!" Prince Edvard yelled out in disgust. "He is our _brother_!" Hans shot a thankful look in the holy man's direction, but Edvard did not avert his pleading eyes from the King. At least for once in his life someone stood up for him. Elias never took his eyes from Hans' as he backed up towards the throne once more.

"_Please_," Hans pleaded to his brother. Elias cleared his throat.

"You are to be placed on house arrest until the trial, then we can prepare a more fitting sentencing," Elias announced.

"Trial?"

"Yes, a trial. You are to go on trial for your crimes against the Southern Isles, to take place when our witnesses arrive. Meanwhile, if what you say is true, we are sending men scouting for Lars. If he had something to do with this, he will serve his sentence as well."

"Witnesses?" Hans asked, echoing his brother.

"Yes, we are to request that those involved in the Arendelle debacle attend, although I highly doubt anyone from Arendelle will come after all _you've_ done." He motioned for the guards to unshackle him. Hans brought his hand to his wrist, rubbing where the shackles had irritated the skin. "In the meantime, you will are restricted to the castle grounds, as well as attending to various chores and duties around the palace. You will work from morning until dusk, without leisure. You are forbidden to ride Sitron or any of the other horses," Hans listened quietly and unchallenging at his brother's orders. "And I certainly wouldn't plan on running, if I were you," King Elias warned.

"I-" Hans opened his mouth to speak, to say anything in his own defense. He looked around the room at all of his brother's disapproving glances and decided he'd better not. "Thank you, your majesty," he said, defeated.

"You're dismissed."

* * *

><p>Hans stood with the rest of his eleven remaining brothers in the castle cemetery. As if he wasn't morose enough, the usually bright, sunny Southern Isles was cold and wet today, raining down upon them.<p>

_ How fitting_.

They stood together, unified in a way they had never been before, watching their father's royal casket lower into the damp, cool ground. Elias was right; at least the king had died without having to hear of his mess. But Hans was devastated; his father had died before he got a chance to prove that he was worth anything.

Prince Edvard led the brothers in prayer.

Hans hadn't even noticed that a tear had escaped from his eye, hidden by the drizzling rain. Hans couldn't help but hope that one day he would be redeemed, one day he could make his father proud, wherever he was now.

_ Ashes to ashes, dust to dust._

Hans realized that he was now a social pariah, the guests at the funeral avoiding him like the plague. He turned as the groundskeeper began shoveling dark, wet dirt upon the casket, passing through the neighboring dignitaries that had made it in time for the funeral, some of which whispered to one another, pointing at Hans.

'_That's him, that's the son that went to Arendelle_,' they seemed to say, with the wide eyes and gasps coming from the person they'd whispered to.

The only person who'd even talked to him informally since he came home was Edvard, whom he assumed felt it was his Godly duty to bring Hans back from the darkness. He had to admit it felt nice talking to someone, however. But any time Edvard tried to steer the conversation towards Arendelle, towards redemption, Hans wavered and ultimately found another task he should be doing instead.

He never realized how much the servants really did around the palace, and there was always so much more to be done. He'd done the laundry, he'd cleaned in the kitchen, he'd cleaned the stables. Helping with the castle duties gave him a lot of time to think, to reflect back on the occurrences. The busy work was actually a nice change; his days before used to consist of reading, lessons, getting lost with Sitron. At least now he could go to bed each night with a feeling of accomplishment.

Hans tracked mud into the castle behind him, only noticing after he was a few yards in. He sighed, surely he would be mopping it up and cleaning the rugs. He couldn't ask any of the servants to do it; Elias had given them full control over Hans and he had to do everything for himself now. He no longer had the rights of a prince, not until his name was cleared once more. He thought back on his punishment for the time being, relieved that Elias hadn't killed him.

_ Would he have really done that?_

Hans wasn't sure.

He walked into the portrait room, a fire burning nicely in the corner. Dusk had fallen, the room was dark, save for that blistering fire. He removed his coat and his filthy, mud covered riding boots.

_ What's the point of riding boots when you can't ride_.

He wanted nothing more than to dress Sitron and ride off as far as he could, escape the sadness. Arendelle was supposed to change everything, and although so much had happened, it changed nothing. He was still utterly, desperately alone.

Hans walked toward his favorite spot in the whole castle, the bench seat in the window. He hadn't sat in that spot for so long, he was instantly overcome with nostalgia. Like old times, he glanced over to the Arendelle portrait, the two young princesses staring back at him. It wasn't the same as it used to be, their vacant, stony expressions so different than he remembered before.

The sun had set over the trees, painting the room and all its surroundings blue. The popping and crackling of the fireplace serenaded him, and let off just enough glow that he could clearly see the parchment paper in front of him as he began to pen another letter of apology to Arendelle; it would be his third in the short couple of days he'd been home. He was hoping that maybe, just maybe, it would encourage them to change their mind about trade and hopefully help drop the charges against him from his own kingdom.

_ Wishful thinking_, he thought to himself. He knew there was no way he would ever hear from or see Anna or Elsa again. But it didn't hurt to try.

_ Was_ he really sorry? He wasn't sure. It was something he'd played around with in his mind for the couple days since he'd been home.

Would he have done things differently?

_ Absolutely_.

Was he still heartbroken?

_ No, most assuredly not. _

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><p><strong><em> Three Months Later…<em>**

"Hansy! Pass me that pot," Marguerite, the head of the kitchen servants insisted; her cheery, round face was pink and flushed from running around the kitchen as usual. Hans reached above her, much higher than she could reach even on her tiptoes, to fetch the deep, metal pot. He lowered it down to her, placing it gingerly in her awaiting hands. "Oh, thank you dearie," she cooed, reaching up and pinching his cheek. He smirked, then realized quickly that he needed to pull the bird from the oven.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Something's burning," he called out, and sure enough, he pulled the hen from the oven to see it more than lightly singed. Marguerite peered over her shoulder at him, flattening dough with her bare hands.

"You'll get it next time, Hansy. I am sure of it!" she feigned comfort, giggling to herself again. Kitchen duty was Hans' favorite duty to have, simply because he loved spending time with Marguerite. She was short, plump and cheery, but mostly she was motherly, and she doted upon Hans in a way he'd never experienced before. She had been the head of the kitchen staff for as long as Hans could remember, but he'd never taken the time to get to know her until beginning kitchen duty. In fact, he never realized just how many friends he could have made through the years from servants alone if he would have just taken the time to get to know them.

"But it's-" he paused, studying the overcooked bird. "It's still edible, right? I mean, you'd eat that, right?" he tried to garner up some sympathy. Marguerite glanced at it again, nodding happily.

"It's a lovely bird, dear," she attempted, wrinkling her button nose at him. Her eyes grew big, as they usually did when she remembered something. "Oh, do tell me, have you heard back from Arendelle?" she asked, referring to the letters. Hans couldn't believe that it had already been three months since he returned home, nonetheless that they weren't even close to arranging a trial. For all he knew, he would be part of the wait staff for the rest of his life at this rate.

"No, nothing," he sighed, although he hadn't expected a response anyway.

"Such a shame," she said sadly, beating the dough with her fists. "You've sent so many letters." Hans leaned in, whispering in her ear.

"Well, Marguerite, when you try to kill a queen of a neighboring kingdom and take her throne, they tend to avoid you afterwards." She smacked him in the stomach, laughing at his candidness. He couldn't help it, he laughed a little too. To be honest, this simpler, humbler life not as bad as he thought it was going to be.

Suddenly, two guards entered the kitchen, looking serious as usual.

"Prince Hans," one called out. Hans was taken aback, he hadn't been called by his royal title in quite some time. Hans stared at them, wiping his dirtied hands on his apron.

"Yes?" he asked.

"The king would like a word with you. Several, actually," the other guard informed him.

"He usually does," Hans sighed, taking his apron off and handing it to Marguerite. "I'll be back," he told her, before hurrying off with the guards.

When the made it to the privacy of the hallway, Hans took a deep breath.

"Hurry along, your majesty," the guard said.

"Do you know what this is about?" he asked. As usual, they didn't answer him, just led him forward towards the royal throne room.

He entered to see King Elias upon his throne, talking to a messenger. He held a long piece of parchment paper with a seal he recognized as Arendelle's at the bottom. His stomach dropped; it was a response.

"Prince Hans," his brother called out to him, Hans bowed, humbly.

"Your majesty." It still bothered him that he had to address his brother in such a way, but he was beginning to get used to it. In the time since he'd gotten home, he'd really not spoken much more to the new king; he hoped that Elias would just forget about him and the trial eventually.

"We have some news from Arendelle," he announced, his deep voice echoing off the palace walls. Hans wrang his hands, slightly nervous.

"And?" he asked.

"They've captured Lars," the King informed him. Hans let out a sigh of instant relief. Perhaps now the heat would fall onto Lars, who'd abandoned his duties after trying to coerce Hans into taking the crown, perhaps now his name would be cleared.

"That's great…I think," Hans said. The King nodded. "Since Arendelle severed trade ties with not only us but also Weselton, their economy is flailing. They have arranged to send not only Lars home to receive his sentence, but a royal diplomat to discuss trade."

"That's wonderful! So they are forgiving the Southern Isles then? Does that mean that I am no longer being tried for treason?" Hans asked hopefully. Elias smirked.

"I have to say, it's been wonderful watching you cavort with the wait staff, running around and serving us like the commoner you truly are," he began, rolling the parchment paper in his hands. "But, unfortunately for you, the Princess also agreed to come and testify as a witness for your trial."

Hans' mouth and stomach dropped.

"Wh-what?" he asked, utterly sickened. His knees felt weak.

"She wants to see that justice is served."

"But-but…I'm being punished. I'm serving my time!" Hans declared.

"Apparently, the Queen and the Princess think we've been too lenient on you. They are insisting on real time in the prison, or no trade. So, Princess Anna of Arendelle will be here in a fortnight to see to it." Hans felt like he'd been hit by a ton of bricks; as if those women hadn't destroyed his life enough! Why couldn't they just leave well enough alone?

"I-I..." Hans stammered, visibly upset by this new turn of events. Elias looked up from his letter.

"Oh. You're dismissed."


	9. The Good Doctor

**Chapter 8:**

_The Good Doctor  
><em>

**A/N: Special thanks to those of you that are reading and reviewing, it really helps the creative process knowing someone actually reads/cares! Hope you're enjoying.**

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><p>He'd found the whole thing to be <em>quite<em> unnecessary, but when given choice between cleaning the stables or seeing a doctor to talk about your _feelings_, one tends to choose the latter. Although, since riding Sitron was out of the question, Hans didn't mind visiting the stables now and then to steal some time with his only true companion. Either way, Prince Hans' time with Dr. Svedsen was a break from his chores around the castle, and one of the only times he got to dress and act as a prince again.

Since he'd been home, King Elias demanded that Hans have two sessions per week with the psychologist. He'd come to enjoy his time with Dr. Svedsen, although he spent a great deal of the time lamenting about his childhood and reworking everything that had happened in Arendelle to _his_ convenience. Dr. Svedsen, however, seemed happy to see that Hans sincerely enjoyed helping with the duties around the castle; he said it was 'character building.'

Hans started to see his visits with the good doctor as a way to exercise his demons, and in part it had become a bit of a game. Within the first few visits, he'd thought he'd successfully duped the doctor into believing that he was a victim in the matter, only to figure out that the doctor was much smarter than Hans had given him credit for.

Today was an especially important session; the ship from Arendelle was supposed to port any moment now, and Hans was all over the place in terms of how he felt about the whole thing. Lars was returning, most likely to be taken straight to the dungeon to await the trial, and Princess Anna had laid out some pretty ironclad stipulations to accompany her on her visit.

At this point, Hans wasn't even sure if he would see the scorned princess, let alone talk to her. She demanded that she stay in an entirely separate wing of the castle and receive absolutely no contact from both Lars _or_ Hans. Naturally, King Elias obliged.

_ Fine by me_, Hans thought to himself. Although, he was more than well aware that her testimony very well could seal his fate. In any other instance, he would apologize and charm her, get her to see things from his perspective. He knew it was a lost cause, but then again, even with everything Arendelle had thrown at him, he had still come incredibly close to usurping the throne. It was a testament to what he was truly capable of when he put his mind to it.

Hans sat up straight on the green, velvet sofa in the parlor. His posture was impeccable, his head held high. He smiled politely, his gloved hands clasped in his lap. The autumn sun shined brightly and warmly through the draped window nearby, painting the room with its yellow light and specks of dust floating around the room, caught in its rays. The chamber door creaked open, and in walked Dr. Svedsen, silently.

"Good morning, Dr. Svedsen," Hans greeted through perfectly aligned, white teeth. The aging doctor, much shorter in stature, peered at Hans through his metal framed glasses, juggling the papers in his hands in front of him. He adjusted his grey tie, then his golden-buttoned vest, before sitting at the grand, mahogany desk a few feet away.

"Good day, Prince Hans," he greeted with a slight sigh. "And which Prince Hans is with us here today?" he asked skeptically. Hans' eyes widened, his mouth agape. He shook his head and furrowed his brow.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're asking me," he uttered innocently, looking quite puzzled. Dr. Svedsen narrowed his eyes before jotting a few notes down on the papers upon his desk. Hans fidgeted with his hands, glancing around the room nervously.

"You seem anxious," Dr. Svedsen observed, Hans shrugged lightly. "Care to share how you're feeling today?" Hans opened his mouth to speak, but closed it once more, his face deep in thought. Dr. Svedsen simply looked on patiently, awaiting Hans' response.

"I don't… really understand why I have to be here," Hans finally spoke, slowly.

"I believe you _do_ know why you have to be here, Prince Hans."

"King's orders," he sighed, acknowledgingly. Dr. Svedsen removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes, slightly agitated.

"You know that's not the _only_ reason you're here, Master Westergaard." He put his glasses back on and folded his hands upon his desk, staring at Hans with his beady, black eyes. "You have to accept responsibility for your actions, as well as find the _cause_ of your actions in the first place. You're here because you need guidance. You're here because you need help," Dr. Svedsen explained, although the tired tone of his voice would suggest that he'd told him this many times already.

"But, I _am_ responsible. I truly regret how things happened in Arendelle. I tried to save the kingdom, I really did. I was desperate, I needed to end the winter before we all died," Hans explained, urgency and sorrow riddling his words. The act wasn't working, and Svedsen was not accommodating of the theatrics today. The doctor kept his face and composure calm.

"We both know that is not the whole truth. You are reverting back to your original story, which is a pity considering how much progress we've made these last few sessions." Hans' innocent, earnest face transformed before the doctor. The prince's eyes darkened, narrowed, his mouth turning up into a wry smile.

"Touché," he purred. He leaned back, stretched, his demeanor relaxing. "How many more of these sessions do we need, anyway?" he sighed, his tone now flat and bored. He crossed an ankle over his knee, extending an arm across he back of the sofa.

"As many as it takes."

"And what's the prognosis, doc?" Hans said, his smile vastly inappropriate for such subject matter. "Do you deem me mad?"

"You, my son, are a narcissist," the doctor said matter-of-factly. Hans rolled his eyes, scoffed.

"Oh, _please_."

"You suffer from a hero complex, illusions of grandeur, possible split personality disorder…" he began to list. Hans even looked slightly offended.

"Anything _good_ on that paper?" he asked, frustrated.

"Not that I blame you, _per se_. It would suggest from your stories of your childhood that you were conditioned to be this way, a victim of circumstance."

"Sounds like you're letting me off the hook a little, there," Hans grinned, his tone lightening up.

"Oh, no, no, no. You see, you may be a victim of poor parenting, but that does not excuse your actions. Therein lies the problem. You _alone_ must take responsibility for your actions." Dr. Svedsen paused, studying Hans from his seat. "I understand the princess arrives today?" he ventured. Hans' smug smile dissipated, his face falling to stone, unreadable.

"That's what they are saying," Hans said curtly, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"Tell me about what happened with Princess Anna in the library," the doctor requested. Hans shook his head, chuckling nervously, although there was no humor. He waved his hand dismissively.

"I already told you that-" he began.

"I'd like to hear it again," the doctor insisted, sternly this time. Hans clenched his jaw, swallowing hard. Dr. Svedsen began to write on the paper once more.

"_Alright_," he hissed. "Just…stop doing that. It's distracting." Hans straightened his jacket, Dr. Svedsen set the quill down. Once again, he folded his hands nicely in front of him upon the desk, leaning in and trying to suggest an open, receptive body posture. Hans took in a sharp, staggered breath. "The Princess had been gone for some time. When we went to Elsa's castle on the North Mountain, she was nowhere to be found. Last I knew she was off with a strange man, trying to find her sister," he sputtered off.

"You're deflecting," Dr. Svedsen observed aloud. "Tell me about what _happened_ when she entered the library," he reiterated. Hans' head bowed as he remembered. He zoned out, recalling the memory as he described it out loud.

"She came in weak… frantic." He paused, visualizing the moment. Sadness drenched his words, and yet as he spoke he felt nothing.

_ Odd_.

"Go on…"

"She threw herself at me, said Elsa froze her heart and she needed me to kiss her."

"Why didn't you accept her request?" the doctor asked. "Were you angry at her?"

"Yes," Hans said quickly coming back down to earth. "_Of course _I was. She was off cavorting around with some strange man, one she ended up with a mere two days after our engagement, I'll have you know-" he began rambling.

"Then did you refuse to kiss her as a punishment for _inadvertently_ hurting you?"

"Who's side are you on?" Hans asked, beginning to squirm under the doctor's relentless questioning.

"I'm not on any sides, Prince Hans. You know that," the doctor assured.

"She was going to leave me anyways, be it through death or through running off with another man."

"If you had accepted her kiss in the library, do you think she would have ended up with the other man?" the doctor asked. Hans stared into thin air, mulling over that thought.

"I think…" he began, trying to find the right words. "I think that my kiss would have been of no use to her." The words actually stung a bit, coming out.

"I think that your compulsive fear of rejection caused you to reject _her_ before she could reject _you_."

"I don't agree," Hans said quietly. "And anyway, she never would have forgiven me for what I was going to do to the Queen."

"Forgiveness is a very powerful thing, your majesty," Svedsen explained. "Forgiveness, ultimately, is more for you than it is for the other person. One cannot carry burden upon their heart without it showing through the cracks of their character. I doubt the Princess meant to hurt you on purpose."

"She said nothing happened with Kristoff," Hans said quietly, more to himself than to the doctor.

"It sounds like a lot of your actions with Princess Anna were a result of a very simple, very preventable misunderstanding."

"Among other things."

Silence. Then…

"I am to understand that you are not going to be seeing Princess Anna while she's here?"

"She won't see me, no."

"Your homework, Prince Hans, is to ask the Princess for forgiveness."

"I have," Hans exclaimed, shaking his head. "I've sent multiple letters to Anna _and_ Elsa. They've never responded."

"No, you must ask her in person. There is a difference between hiding behind words and paper as opposed to asking for forgiveness in the flesh. It means more, it's much harder."

"And forbidden. If Elias finds out I breeched my parole to see her I will be stripped of my title for sure.'

"Then I guess you must decide if redemption is worth the sacrifice for you," Svedsen deduced. He looked down at his papers, writing down a few more sentences. He looked up at Hans through the glass of his spectacles. "You're resourceful when it suits you, you'll find a way."

* * *

><p>The session with Dr. Svedsen left Hans' brain swimming. Usually, he had no problem chatting with the doctor, but today's was especially hard to stomach, with the arrival of Anna and Lars. He paced the corridor in front of the dining hall, biding his time until kitchen duty was to begin.<p>

How was he supposed to ask Anna for forgiveness when she refused to see him? Worse, how was he supposed to gain her favor when it was forbidden? He wasn't about to risk his last shred of freedom and dignity to grovel to the harlot. He might have felt remorse for the way everything panned out in Arendelle, but his crippling failure and soiled name was punishment enough, let alone having to _apologize, _which he'd already tried to do.

_ Multiple times._

Hans continued to stroke his ever-growing pride, and then he heard the shouting.

"This way!" a uniformed guard yelled, escorting another man down the corridor quickly. Hans recognized the man as the royal doctor, but not Svedsen. It was Dr. Roahl, the doctor that had assisted to the brothers and the royal family anytime they had fallen ill. He watched the men hurry past, wondering if his brothers were all in good health.

Another two guards followed, Hans grabbed one by the arm as he hurried by.

"Is everything alright? Is something wrong?" Hans asked, confused. The guard looked around nervously, reluctant to answer. "Are my brothers well?" he asked, the panic in his voice increasing.

"I am not at liberty to tell anyone," he said sternly, eying Hans up and down. "Especially you," he added, before turning and running after the others. Hans was confused, but he knew it was time to report to the kitchen, so he figured he could ask Marguerite if she knew what had the guards in such an upheaval.

When he entered the kitchen, the staff was equally shaken. He watched them scurry around the kitchen, pulling out various ingredients well before lunch. He noticed Marguerite in the middle of it all, rambling off instructions to the kitchen staff.

"What is going on around here? Did I miss something?" Hans asked, grabbing the stout woman by the shoulders and turning her towards him. She blew a loose lock of hair back from her eyes, patting him on the stomach lovingly.

"Just trying to put together some stew," she smiled through her panicked eyes. "I'll save you some, you need to eat!" she insisted. "Hansy, dearie," she began, taking a deep breath, "you're not going to be needed on kitchen duty today. I am relieving you." Hans shook his head.

"But why?" he asked again. "Someone needs to tell me what is happening this instant!" he demanded, feeling like a prince again. The staff quieted, Marguerite approaching calmly.

"Princess Anna has arrived," she said quietly. Hans rolled his eyes.

"Well, I am well aware that she was arriving today, there's no need to-"

"I'm afraid she's very ill," Marguerite interrupted. Hans stopped speaking, unsure of how to respond to that.

"What is her ailment?" he asked.

"They aren't sure, she fell ill towards the end of the voyage and they have been unable to break her fever, she's hardly conscious," Marguerite said, tears in her eyes. Hans knew that she didn't _know_ the princess, aside what he'd told her, but ever the bleeding heart, Marguerite couldn't keep the tears from falling when she would hear an emotional story. When Hans told her the story about his mother passing away, she'd cried for two hours straight. Hans cleared his throat, waving his hand at her.

"She's tough; I mean, if she can survive a frozen heart-" he began, detached.

"They don't think she'd going to make it, Hans," Marguerite clarified sadly.

That was it? No redemption? No forgiveness? Sure, even moments ago he would have rather beg for mercy than beg for forgiveness of the young princess, but now that the choice was being taken from him? Hans never liked being told No. He turned back to Marguerite, more eager.

"Where are they keeping her?" he asked, his voice low as to not alert the rest of the kitchen staff. Marguerite turned from him, shaking her head.

"Ohhhh, no. I can't tell you, sire. Strict orders-" He interrupted her sentence, turning her back towards him, staring sadly at her with his deep green eyes, pleading. "No, Hans! I can't tell you. It will be my neck _and_ yours!" she whispered harshly.

"Marguerite, this might by my only chance to apologize for what I did to her," Hans spoke slowly, strongly. "I would never tell anyone you told me. If I am caught, I will take sole responsibility for my actions."

"Hans…" she warned.

"_Please_, Marguerite. I-I…I didn't even know how important this would be to me until I realized that I might not ever get another chance." He stared intensely at her, and she reciprocated. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Quietly, subtly, she leaned in an whispered:

"She may or may not be resting in the old wing, your mother's old bedroom chamber," she divulged. "But if you tell anyone I told you I will deny it to my death," she added quickly. Hans nodded, placing a loving kiss upon the top of her head.

"Thank you, Marguerite. You're an angel." He turned in a hurry to begin running off.

"Oh, Hansy?" Marguerite called out. He turned walking back towards her as she grinned. "The room is _heavily_ guarded."

"Of course," Hans groaned.

"Well, when a lovely Princess is staying in the same castle as the cad that broke her heart and left her to die, they tend to be well-protected," Marguerite rationalized. Hans narrowed his eyes.

"Very funny." Hans exhaled, leaning against the kitchen block, drumming his fingers across it as he thought. "How am I supposed to get in there?" he asked aloud.

"Well, I have an idea…" Marguerite said happily. "But you're not going to _like_ it…"

* * *

><p>Hans absolutely could not believe he was doing this.<p>

Then again, as Svedsen had said, forgiveness wasn't just for the other person. It was for yourself. And as a narcissist, who did Hans love more than himself?

_ Nobody._

_ …Maybe Sitron._

But these thoughts comforted him as he crouched down, hidden on the bottom rack of the rolling food cart that was on its way to Princess Anna's guestroom. He quietly waited as the unaware servant wheeled the cart down the corridors, whistling an annoying and unfamiliar tune, and hand delivering the one person that was supposed to be nowhere near the princess.

Hans' back ached, his knees stung, and he knew that one quick peek under the tablecloth that dressed the cart would send him straight to the dungeons.

The cart slowly came to a stop.

"I have the soup as requested for Princess Anna," the servant announced to the guards.

"Very well," replied one of the guards, moving to the side. Hans heard the creaking of the chamber door opening, and the cart began to move forward again.

"Set it over there, by the fire so it doesn't get cold," someone instructed. He assumed it was one of the nurses. Sure enough, the cart was wheeled over by the fireplace, the bottom rack that housed a hidden prince instantly becoming quite warm. "Thank you, sir."

Hans could see through a crack in the tablecloth; he watched the servant leave with the door closing quietly behind him. More to the left, he could see a young nurse, wringing out a cloth over the wash basin. Hans could feel the temperature of the cart steadily getting warmer and warmer. He began to sweat, mostly from the heat but slightly from the nerves.

The nurse continued wringing out the cloth, slowly turning and walking towards the bed. She gingerly laid the cloth across Anna's forehead, who moaned in response. Hans couldn't see the princess clearly, as it was quite dark in the room with the curtains closed, save for the light of the fireplace. The same fireplace that was slowly cooking Hans alive.

"Princess Anna, can you hear me?" Another nurse asked. From what Hans could tell, there were only the two. Anna didn't respond.

"Let's allow her rest a while, she is not ready to eat," one of the nurses said to the other. Quietly, both nurses left the room together, just before Hans rolled out from under the cart, gasping for cooler air.

Hans quickly removed his jacket and gloves, relieved to be out from under that blasted food cart. Once he'd collected his breath, Hans took a look around the room. His stomach dropped; he hadn't been in this room for years, not since his mother had died. Everything remained the same; the tapestries she had hand-picked, the chandelier he used to look up at as he lay beside her while she read him his favorite stories. Even in the corner, Hans could see his very own baby bassinet, the same one she used to sing to him in as a baby.

Hans' throat went dry as he recalled the memories, the last memory the most aching of all. He looked towards his mother's large, canopy bed. Princess Anna lay in the middle, looking so small among the pillows and blankets. At first glance, Hans could have even sworn it was Ava.

But it wasn't his beloved mother.

It was just Anna. A girl he thought he'd loved at one point. A girl that held his fate in her hands, even still.

He walked towards her, slowly, very clearly remembering what it was like approaching the very same bed, his mother lying in the same position. He remembered that day like it was very recent, and carried it on his heart every day:

It had been a short, crisp, Autumn day. 8-year-old Hans had spent the earlier portion of that day chasing after his brothers, begging each and every one in one way or another to play with him, anything to keep his mind off of what was happening to his mother.

_ No one did. _

So, he'd spent most of that day at the foot of her bed, reading various books and stories from the library, just awaiting any moments with her where she was coherent. He was in the middle of reading a wonderful story; The story was about a knight that was an outcast, who conquered a dragon that was holding a princess prisoner and in turn became loved by all. Young Hans heard his mother stir.

"Hansy?" she spoke, her voice thin, her eyes remaining closed. He closed the book, crawling up the length of the bed and snuggling up close to her, draping one small arm across her chest.

"I'm here, mama," he whispered. She turned her head towards him, their noses almost touching. Her emerald eyes fluttered open.

"So you are," she sighed back, a small, frail smile breaking across her pale face. He stared lovingly at her freckled face, one he'd gazed at a million of times. He could count every single freckle if he had the time. "Are you being a good boy?" she asked. He nodded

"Mama, when can you get up and play with me?" he asked her, his voice trembling. He already knew the answer to his hopeless inquiry. The doctors had already told the king in front of young Hans days ago; his mother would not be getting up to play again. Her eyes saddened, her eyebrows lowering.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to do that again, Hansy," she spoke, agonizingly. She shushed the devastated prince as he began to weep quietly, tears escaping his large eyes and falling down his round, pink cheeks. "Don't cry, my darling,' she instructed, choking back tears of her own. "There is nothing more I would rather do in this world than play with you," she assured, clutching him to her as tightly as her weakened state would allow.

"I need you here," he said as she smoothed his fiery, amber hair.

"You don't need anybody," she smiled. "You're the strongest, bravest prince I know. And I know twelve princes," she jested. Hans allotted her a miniscule smile among the tears. "You're going to do great things, my son. Important, wonderful things. As long as you keep your heart soft, don't let it harden."

"I don't know what that means," Hans admitted, sheepishly.

"It means…"she paused, swallowing. It was hard for her to speak, she was so tired. "It means don't be like your father or your brothers. Stay kind, be a gentleman. Marry a pretty girl and live happily ever after. Can you do that for me? Can you promise?"

"I promise," Hans sniffled.

"Remember that you aren't like them. Remember that you are special," she instructed.

"I will," he said quietly. He remained on her chest, the tears falling, when he realized that her chest was no longer rising or falling, she was just still. He glanced up at her, she looked as if she had fallen asleep, but even the young prince knew better. He shook her, lightly. "Mama?" he asked. She remained still. "Mother…" he tried again, shaking her harder. He began to gain ferocity as he shook her harder and harder, his panic setting in. "Wake up! Mama, please wake up!" he screamed.

Guards burst through the door, followed closely by Dr. Roahl, who was much younger then. They cast Hans aside, hurrying over to the Queen and trying to revive her, to no avail, in front of Hans' very eyes.

Hans shook away the memory, along with the tears, as he stared at the Princess sleeping in his mother's place, a cool rag draped over her head. He neared the bed, quietly kneeling beside her.

"Els…Elsa…" she murmured. Hans was taken aback, before he realized she was probably having an intense dream from the fever. "Elsa, where…are you…" she mumbled. Hans sighed, he suddenly regretted coming in here at all, she was too sick to talk coherently, let alone forgive him. He began to rise when he felt it, her small, weak hand resting upon his on the bed, skin to skin. She squeezed it gently. "Don't-don't leave me," she said, her eyes remaining closed.

Hans crouched back down, unsure of what he should do. He wanted to slip away, preferably out the window to avoid the guards, but her hand stayed upon his. He knew she wasn't asking _him_ to stay, that would be absurd. But for a brief moment, he remembered what it was like to feel wanted, to feel needed.

Ever so gently, he placed his other hand on top of hers, rubbing it gently.

"I'm here," he whispered. He watched in awe as her lips curled into a comforted, frail smile. Then, slowly, it began to disappear. Her eyebrows crunched together, her eyes never opening.

"Wait…"she mumbled. "Hans?"

Hans was startled by the door opening, the nurses returning to check on the princess. They rounded the corner in time to see Hans crouched down beside the princess, their eyes wide and bewildered.

"You're not supposed to be in here!" one of the nurses said, angrily, the other running to alert the guards. Hans held both hands up in silent surrender.

"_Please_, don't…" he implored, but it was too late.

Three guards rushed Hans, taking a hold of him roughly, and leading him out of Anna's chamber door.


	10. The Scorned Princess

**Chapter 9:**

_The Scorned Princess_

* * *

><p>"You can wait here until the King says otherwise," a tall, burly guard instructed, literally throwing Hans towards the back of a concrete cell, Hans collapsing to all fours and skinning his hands from the impact.<p>

"Could you tell him to hurry? I have dinner plans tonight," Hans spat sarcastically, wiping his hands on his pants and dusting himself off. The guard responded by slamming the iron gate shut.

"And watch that smart mouth of yours if you know what's good for you," he added. Hans stood indignantly.

"Prisoner or not I am still a prince, you will address me with more respect!" Hans yelled after the guard as he sauntered off, ignoring the prince entirely.

_ Great_.

This was exactly the kind of thing he was trying to avoid happening, and so quickly at that. How was he going to explain blatantly breaking his parole to Elias, who seemed to have it out for him anyways.

He rubbed his aching shoulder, kicking himself for even trying to do the right thing, whatever _that_ was.

_Stupid Dr. Svedsen._

He should have just left well enough alone, and now he was in for it from Elias, although he had no idea what could be worse than all the work had already been assigned to him.

"Fancy meeting you here," he heard a familiar and unwelcome voice say from across the way. He glanced out past the bars, and locked up diagonally from him was Lars. He was in rags, a long, thick beard in place of his usually trimmed and pointed goatee.

"Oh, great. It's you," Hans sighed, sarcastically. "Just do yourself a favor and leave me alone. I am not in the mood for you, of all people."

"Is that any way to greet your old friend?" Lars spoke, feigning insult. He smirked like a madman from behind his cell. Hans turned from him, leaning against the bars and trying his best to ignore the old man. "I take it your brother is putting you through the wringer?" Hans remained silent. Lars didn't stop. "I am not surprised; those pesky brothers of yours always had it out for you, didn't they _Hansy?"_

"_Don't_," Hans said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I cannot have you rummaging through my head right now. You've done enough," Hans spat over his shoulder.

"It wasn't me that tried to decapitate a Queen of a neighboring kingdom. It wasn't me that left her sister to die of a frozen heart," Lars sang, chuckling with his cackled voice. He began to cough, loudly and violently.

Hans lay on his cot, pulling the hard and flat pillow allotted to him over his head to drown out the Lars' taunts. He rolled onto his side and tried his best to let sleep overtake him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>One Month Ago... In Arendelle<strong>_

"You're not going, and that is final," Elsa said sternly, her arms folded across her chest. Her words echoed across the throne room, a sudden chill in the temperature becoming noticeable. She could see in Anna's face that it wasn't final, she was going to continue to fight the Queen's words.

"Elsa, would you just listen to me-" Anna asked, frustration painting her face. She was clutching the third plea from the Southern Isles for the Queen and Princess of Arendelle to attend Hans' trial, in person. Elsa had gotten into the habit of throwing them out, but Anna insisted they attend. This wasn't a new argument, and it wasn't going well.

"I have heard enough! There is no way I can support you going to the Southern Isles, not after everything that happened." Elsa could see the hurt in Anna's pleading eyes, and Elsa began calming herself down a bit. She sighed, taking in a deep breath. "I almost lost you-" she said, softer than before.

"But, you didn't lose me." Anna added, sadly, remembering all too clearly how close both of them came to death at Prince Hans' hand. She shook it off quickly. "And someone needs to be there to speak for us and what happened…"

"I am sure he will be punished accordingly, Anna. I sent him home so that he could be their problem, and we could be done with it, so that we could move on."

"How are we supposed to move on when he is still out there? What's stopping him from doing the same thing to another princess?" Her eyes widened when she heard herself, she laughed nervously, "I-I mean kingdom. I meant, what's stopping him from trying to take over another kingdom." Elsa's eyes narrowed, skeptically.

"Something tells me you still have some healing to do."

"What? No. I am so over the whole thing," Anna said coolly, folding her arms. "Wh-why do you say that?" she added, more insecurely.

"Anna…" Elsa groaned.

"What?"

"What is this really about?" Elsa asked, nearing her sister. Her icy eyes were soft, sympathetic. "You can't tell me you actually want to see him again."

"No! I mean, yes. I mean…I don't know," she stammered. She began to pace. "I just have a few very strategically thought out questions I would like to ask him and-"

"Anna, what is the point? The man is insane, he doesn't deserve to be able to explain himself to you, he doesn't deserve redemption-"

"Everyone deserves forgiveness, Elsa. Even someone as awful as Hans." Anna said quietly. Elsa went to speak, but couldn't. She was right on that one, no matter how difficult it was to admit.

"What about Kristoff?" Elsa attempted, trying to coax her to stay.

"Kristoff will understand," Anna said, confidently, dismissively. Elsa bowed her head slightly, glancing down at her hands; light frost began to appear over her palms and fingertips. She clenched her hands into fists, she could hear the faint sound of ice cracking.

"But…what about me then, Anna?" Anna rushed over to her sister, taking her in her arms and pulling her in for a hug.

"You'll be alright, Elsa." She pulled away, looking her sister deeply and lovingly in the eyes. "Love will thaw, remember? Just remember how much I love you and you love me and you will be able to control it while I'm gone."

"I just can't stop thinking about that voyage, about our parents, if something happened to you…" she said, her eyes tearing. Anna had to take a step back from her freezing sister as frost crept across the marble floors of the throne room. Anna shuddered.

"Elsa, jeeze. Don't think about that kinda stuff, okay? I'll only be gone for a few weeks, I'll be back, I promise."

"You cannot promise that your ship won't sink," Elsa said flatly, a small smile on her lips.

"Well, if you'd just freeze the ocean I could walk to the Southern Isles," she teased. Elsa chuckled lightly. "The Southern Isles asked us to come, we deserve to sit in the front row when his sentence is handed down to him. Without us, the trial will fall apart. He'll just be free to do this all over again." Elsa nodded, although she hated agreeing with her sister's logic, especially since deep down she knew there was more than just justice steering her little sister south.

"You're not-" Elsa began, pausing for a moment, reluctant to say anything.

"What?" Anna coaxed.

"You're not just running away because you haven't answered Kristoff yet, are you?" Elsa asked, genuine concern in her voice. Anna smiled, sighing heavily. She wouldn't be addressing that question.

"I leave tomorrow. There is a ship heading down there with Lars aboard and I intend to go with it."

Elsa sighed; she knew there would be no convincing her sister otherwise. She reached out, bringing her sister in for another long, loving hug.

"Promise me you'll come back to me, alright?" she whispered into Anna's ear.

"I promise."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Present day...The Southern Isles<strong>_

"Looks like today's your lucky day," Hans heard a familiar voice say from the other side of the bars, awakening him from his light nap. He opened his eyes to see Elias staring at him disapprovingly, along with Sedak, Magnus and a few guards beside him. Groggily, he began to sit up on his hard, wooden cot.

"Hmpf?" he grumbled.

"I was in the midst of ordering and signing your labor camp release contract, when I received word that I was requested in Princess Anna's chamber," Elias declared, emotionlessly, his arms crossed.

"And?" Hans asked impatiently. He wanted to just get this, whatever it was, over with; if he was off to a labor camp, so be it. He didn't have the fight in him to avoid it any longer, he was tired of being the punching bag anyways around the castle anyways.

"And it would appear she is on the mend."

"Great, that's _fantastic_ news," Hans said, rolling his eyes and laying back down.

"Sit up while I am addressing you!" Elias shouted, his face red.

"Would you just get on with it then?" Hans yelled back, scrambling to his feet. "If you're sending me away, _fine._ I don't care anymore, Elias. I know I had orders not to see her but I was trying to ask for forgiveness, perhaps change her mind about Arendelle's trade boycott. It doesn't matter anyway, when I entered her chamber she was unconscious and incoherent," Hans cried out, passionately.

"She was more coherent than you think," Magnus spoke up. Hans eyed his brother, curiously.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"She requested to speak to me to ask if you had visited her while she was ill. She seemed to recall you being in her room beside her at one point." the King disclosed. "I profusely apologized to the Princess for your intrusion, assuring her that you were being deprived a trail, stripped of your title, and shipped off to Corona's coal mines."

"Well, I am sure she was just _thrilled_, then," Hans assumed, slightly seething. "When do I leave?"

"Not so fast," Elias said.

"Looks like the little Princess still has a soft spot for ya," Sedak added, smirking. "She must be a glutton for punishment."

"Quiet, Sedak," Elias ordered, Sedak's sadistic smile disappearing quickly.

"What do you mean?" Hans asked, nearing the bars.

"She requests that you meet with her in her chamber, after you've washed up, of course," Elias sighed, disappointedly. "Such a shame, I was so close to carting you off, letting you be someone _else's_ problem."

"Is that all I am to you? Your problem?" Hans asked through gritted teeth, gripping the steel bars in his hands tightly.

"If the shoe fits, _Hansy_," he sneered. The King motioned for the guards to open the cell door. Hans stepped through beside him, eying him intently. "Either way, the princess and I have arranged an…agreement, should choose to accept it, that is."

"And that is?" he asked suspiciously. Nothing from Elias ever came for free. Elias smiled coldly, gently patting Hans on the cheek. Hans pulled away from him quickly, coming daringly close to pushing the King away physically but controlling himself.

"You'd better count your blessings, Hans. For she is showing you much more mercy than you have showed her." Hans stared past his brothers at Lars, slouched in the back of his cell, watching them intently. Hans glared at him, then glanced back at his brother. "Go change and bathe, and hurry along. She's waiting."

* * *

><p>Hans paced outside of Anna's chamber door, wringing his nervous, shaky hands. He was garnering up the nerve to actually set foot inside, and so far it had taken up a good twenty minutes or so. He didn't know what kind of 'arrangement' Elias and Anna had conjured up, but if it was approved by the cold, calculating king then it couldn't be good.<p>

_ Of course it's not good, you idiot. _

He needed to just do it, get it over with. If the arrangement was too awful, he could always decline and jump on the next ship to the Corona Mines, although he couldn't imagine anything worse than that. Hans Westergaard had never worked a day of hard labor in his life, and he was not about to start now.

He approached the door once more. Hans straightened his tie and smoothed down his hair, and then he quickly knocked three times. He glanced sideways at a guard watching him intently, then back at the wooden door in front of him. He knocked again.

"Princess Anna?" he called out when he'd received no response.

"Wh-who is it?" he heard her familiar but muffled voice chime from the other side. He'd startled her.

"Prince Hans," he answered after a brief hesitation.

_ Silence_.

"I-I was told you requested my presence…?" he added.

"Um…Yes. Yes, please come in," he heard her finally say.

When Hans slowly entered the room, he looked directly towards the bed, where he'd seen her last. He didn't expect her up and about; it had only been a few hours since she'd been laying, near death, in the middle of his mother's huge bed. When he neared the bed, however, he found it empty. He turned around, looking around the large room.

"I'm over here," she said. Hans turned towards the sitting room that adjoined the bedroom chamber, where he saw her.

Although he would never admit it to himself, Anna looked stunning, _especially_ for only barely overcoming a mystery illness. He was slightly taken aback; she stood by the fireplace in a long lavender and white empire wasted gown with silver embroidery, the long sleeves sleekly covering her arms down to a point on her hands. Her hair was no longer in the childish braids she had donned the last time he'd seen her, but down and flowing, gentle waves cascading down her back. Her big, blue-green eyes were still wide and curious, but wiser, even after only a few months.

"Prince Hans," she greeted formally.

"Princess Anna," he reciprocated, bowing slightly.

"Please, won't you have a seat," she offered, extending her arm out gesturing towards the sofa. He could tell she was nervous; to be completely honest with himself, he was quite nervous talking to her as well.

"No thank you, I would prefer to stand if you don't mind," he answered coolly.

"Well, _I'm_ going to sit. I'm still feeling pretty weak," Anna said as she sat gingerly on the sofa, next to her tea tray. She leaned over and began to try to pour herself a cup of tea, her shaking hands causing the porcelain to rattle. Hans watched her from afar, before sighing impatiently.

"Here," he said, walking over to her, carefully taking the teapot from her hand and pouring it for her instead. She watched him carefully, skeptically. He sat the teapot down on the tray. "Sugar?" he asked, curtly.

"Excuse me?" she asked, her eyebrows lowered, confused.

"It's not a term of endearment, I am asking if you would like sugar," Hans clarified, shortly. She nodded, sheepishly.

"Oh, yeah. I mean, yes please. Two, no cream," she stammered. Hans dropped two sugar cubes into the tea, stirring it quietly. He glanced down in time to see a small, weak smirk appear on her face as she watched him, lost in thought.

"Is something funny?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Who would have thought you'd be pouring my tea after-" she stopped herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Nothing," she said quietly. He sat the teacup in her hands, and although he'd said he'd prefer to stand, Hans took a seat on another sofa directly across from the weak and fragile princess.

"Thank you," she said, although he knew she had no reason to thank him after everything he'd done, after everything they'd been through. Hans' face fell, the sick feeling in his stomach returning.

"Well, it was quite irritating to watch you try to attempt it on your own, so…" he said, the bitterness returning.

"I was _just_ trying to be polite." She shook her head and chuckled to herself in disbelief. "I see you're just as unpleasant as ever." She brought the teacup to her lips. "I'd have this tea checked for poison had I not just watched you pour it with my own eyes." She eyed Hans, who sat across from her casually, cool and collected under her gaze. He smiled wryly, his eyes burning back into her. She squirmed slightly under his watchful eye, breaking eye contact with him to look about the room. The fireplace crackling was the only sound to break the awkward silence.

"I am to understand you and my brother have come up with an arrangement on my behalf?" he finally said, getting down to business and ignoring her previous comments.

"That can wait," she said, setting the teacup back upon the tray beside her. "I have other business to discuss with you first."

"Oh, princess. I love it when you're bossy," he said flatly. She glared back at him.

"Why were you in my room? I had strict orders that you stay away from me, and you breached those orders within only the mere two hours that I had set foot in the Southern Isles. Are you just _trying_ to get yourself deported, now?"

"Dr. Sved-" he stopped himself, deciding not to disclose that he was seeing a shrink, as being designated to work around the palace was embarrassing enough. "I thought it was a good idea to come to you and apologize for my actions in Arendelle," he said, sitting up tall. She placed her hands on her knees, confusion washing over her.

"And what were your actions in Arendelle, Hans? Can you even say them aloud?" His eyes narrowed.

"We both know what happened in Arendelle," he said. She shook her head.

"Well, according to the King, you seem to have an entirely different idea of what happened," Anna said, her voice raising a bit.

"And what details did I get wrong?" he asked, indignantly.

"Let's see, my sister was a monster that needed to be conquered, I was a harlot that left you for a stable boy…and you were the true victim, right Hans?"

"Ah, yes. Where _is_ your boyfriend, anyway?" Hans asked digressing from the subject at hand, his voice dripping in contempt.

_"Fiancé,"_ she corrected, her eyes narrowed and cold. Hans sat before her, unblinking, unmoved. "Anyway, he's in Arendelle. I told him not to come. I needed to do this alone."

"Well, doesn't _that_ sound familiar," Hans snickered.

"It is probably in your best interest that he _didn't_ come, Hans. He's not your biggest fan, and surely he'd just love the opportunity to teach you some manners," Anna said, snottily. Hans chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Tell him to get in line." Anna shook her head, visibly worked up.

"Never mind, this was a mistake," she said as she got up.

"Yes, it was," Hans mumbled under his breath. He watched with a snide smirk on his face as she turned to walk weakly back towards the bedroom chamber. She'd made it to the doorway before leaning against it, and then collapsing to the floor. Hans' smile disappeared instantly.

"Anna?" Hans called out with more worry in his voice than he would have preferred. He hurried to her side, kneeling down beside her. He couldn't help but notice how much her weakness reminded him of that library in Arendelle.

"Stop," she said breathlessly. "I don't need your help," she insisted. She tried to get up, but it was clear she was too weak.

"Would you quit being so stubborn and let me help you?" Hans said, frustrated at her willfulness. She paused, breathing heavily. She looked up to see him gazing down at her sternly. She finally began to nod wordlessly.

Hans leaned down and scooped the princess up in one swift, seamless motion. She draped a fragile arm around his neck, leaning her head against his shoulder. He stood, carrying her dead weight back into her bedroom and laying her down upon the large canopy bed. He carefully brought the covers up, sitting beside her. He reached his hand up to her forehead; her fever had returned.

"You're burning up," he said quietly, worrisome. She glanced up at him, helplessly, their eyes meeting for far too long for Hans' comfort. He cleared his throat and looked away from her. "I'll go fetch your nurses-" Hans said, standing and turning to leave. He was stopped, however, by a hand weakly grasping onto his. He turned back to see Anna clutching his hand, her face white, her eyes pleading.

"Wait," she said quietly out of breath. He began to interject, but then closed his mouth, doing as he was asked and sitting back down beside her.

"What? What is it?" he asked, unsurely.

"The arrangement," she said. "King Elias and I decided…that you'd take care of me while I am here." Hans' eyes grew two sizes.

"What? Are you insane? What kind of idea is-"

"I am _trying_ to understand Hans," she pleaded. "I have tried since the moment you left to understand you, to understand why you did what you did to me…I mean…to Arendelle," she said, her voice tired and morose. "I thought that maybe if I just got to spend some time with you, it would help me understand."

"I don't think-"

"Please," she breathed. "You _owe_ me."

"I owe you nothing," Hans said coldly. She swallowed hard.

"Fine. Then do it for yourself. You don't belong in a labor yard, Hans."

"What do you care!?" he asked, running an exasperated hand through his hair. Why did it matter that she figure out his motives and get to know him? She should hate him after everything, not be trying to be his best friend. She hadn't changed a bit, she was still a little, naïve girl. He stared at her sad, imploring eyes, shaking his head at her. "You don't even know me."

"Exactly," Anna sighed. She paused, bit her lip, as if to contemplate her next words carefully. "Plus, you're the only face I know here."

"I-" he began. She held her hand up, to stop him from speaking.

"Just…think about it."

Hans nodded, reluctantly. Perhaps there was some kind of hope of redemption, after all.

**a/n**

**Thanks for reading, I'll have Ch. 10 up shortly. Please review!**


	11. Thawing Out

**Chapter 10:**

_Thawing Out_

* * *

><p>Hans had thought long and hard about the arrangement that was proposed by King Elias and Anna; it wasn't <em>ideal<em>, but then again neither were the Corona Mines. He just couldn't help but think about her pleading eyes, begging him to stay with her. Part of him, the part that hated himself for letting her freeze to death on the floor of a castle library, felt like he did, in fact, owe it to her. But only for the sake of his own sanity. It wasn't as if anything was going to change. In the end, he had still left her for dead, and she had no reason to forgive him for that.

So, after much deliberating, Hans finally decided to accept the arrangement.

Even still, he had to report to the kitchen staff. However, as soon as he'd told Elias he would agree to be Princess Anna's personal servant, he was relieved from most of his other duties around the castle. He didn't mind kitchen duty, however, as it was still an opportunity to see Marguerite and at this point, he had actually come to enjoy knowing his way around a kitchen. At least now if he was stripped of his title and sent out into the world as a commoner, he wouldn't starve to death.

So the next day, Hans reported to the kitchen as usual, where he began dicing and cutting various vegetables for the upcoming meals that day. Although not all of the princes resided at the castle, there was still a great deal of work to do for meal preparation. Marguerite was her typical, cheery self. She was ecstatic when Hans told her that he would be a personal servant for the princess during her stay.

"I can't believe you get to spend so much time with the princess," Marguerite said, her eyes dreamy and her voice whimsical. "Perhaps you'll fall back in love and get to live happily ever after, eh Hansy?" She nudged him with her elbow, raising her eyebrows suggestively. He smirked and rolled his eyes, trying to pay attention to the celery he was dicing in front of him.

"There is no way in Hades that will be happening, Marg. And anyway, it is technically a punishment, there is nothing to be so excited about," he smiled. "I do, however, believe you should lay off of those romance novels you're so very fond of," he suggested, pointing the knife at her for emphasis. She smiled a wide, toothy grin, bringing her chubby hands to her pink cheeks.

"Oh no, you'll have to pry those books out of my cold, dead hands. They keep me young, my dear," she laughed, handing him a stack of carrots and potatoes to dice. "What's she like?" she asked him, leaning over the counter and propping her head up with her hand. "She's lovely, from what I've seen…" Hans sighed, wishing they could talk about something, _anything_, other than this.

"She's…I don't know," he glanced at her sideways; her awaiting face made it clear that that answer did not satiate her curiosity. He sat down the knife and turned to her. "Alright, if you must know, she _is_ lovely.'

"I _knew_ it!" she squealed.

"But…"

"_But_?" she echoed.

"The woman is _insufferable_," Hans stated.

"Oh yes, you've been saying that since the day you walked in here," Marguerite giggled, waving her hand dismissingly before picking up the knife and starting where Hans had just left off. "But what is she _like_? It's not very often a new princess comes wandering into the castle, not without a marriage certificate in tow."

"I…I am not sure how to describe her. She's… exhausting." He crossed the room, pacing a bit as he thought. "She…she has more passion and conviction in _one_ memory than I have in my entire being. She's optimistic…to a fault. I mean, she was so love-deprived and eager to think good of me that she was willing to marry me after only knowing me for _one day_-"

"Aye. But then again," Marguerite mused, "it would take a strong woman to keep her wits about her with a handsome, wonderful man like _you_ trying to steal her away."

"_Please_," he scoffed. "You're just being kind. I'm not all that much of prize, Marguerite. _Especially_ now. If not a prince, what am I?" He asked, staring off at nothing in particular, the words echoing and taunting his own mind. She set the knife down, hard enough to make a loud _bang_ against the counter and turned to face a puzzled, startled Hans.

"That's _enough_," she said, sternly, her happy face suddenly very cross. She reached up and took the prince's face in her hands, forcing him to look into her small, bright little eyes. "I am done with the self-loathing. Let the king punish you, it's his job. It is not your job to punish yourself. It's time to stop wallowing and get over it. What's done is done, all you can do now is try to be better," she scolded. Hans couldn't help but nod; if there was anyone left in this world he would listen to, it would be Marguerite. "The princess deems you worthy of understanding, you should do the same for her. Give yourself a chance, Hans. You don't deserve to be this miserable the rest of your life, no matter what you've done. Livet er for å leve."

"Wh-what does that mean?" he asked. She smiled brightly, her arms extending outwards, flamboyantly.

"Life is for living."

* * *

><p><em> Livet er for å leve.<em>

_ Life is for living._

The words ran through Hans' head over and over again as he walked towards Princess Anna's room with the food tray. Marguerite was right; he needed to let the past go. If there was any chance of redemption or forgiveness, this was the only chance he was going to get. The princess seemed to want to forgive Hans, although he had to admit, he hadn't been making it very easy for her since she'd been there. He'd broken her orders, he'd insulted her in her bedroom chamber, he'd even initially rejected her gracious proposal to care for her instead of being carted off to Corona. As much as he'd hated to admit it, he had a lot to be thanking her for.

Hans rounded the corner of the corridor, but stopped when he heard quiet mumbling. He stepped back, hidden from view as he saw Dr. Roahl and a nurse talking to Elias outside Anna's chamber door.

"…but will she get better?" he heard Elias ask.

"It is too soon to tell. I would suspect so; it doesn't seem to be worse than a mere flu, but her frailness and relapse has me worried. She needs to rest, garner her strength. I am afraid I cannot give more information than that just yet."

"Thank you, Dr. Roahl. I will alert you if there are any more…complications."

Hans began walking again, catching the sight of the doctor walking towards him, nodded a hello as they passed by one another. The king turned towards Hans, looking just as unwelcoming as usual.

"Hans," he greeted.

"Your highness," Hans greeted back, bowing, but only a little as not to drop the tray.

"I am pleased to see you are taking your punishment seriously," Elias noted, his eyes fixated on the tray of broth, milk, tea and toast. Hans didn't say more, just simply nodded, then walked past the king and continued towards the door of the bedroom. "Try not to upset her like you did yesterday, if you don't mind. I'd rather not have a dead princess on my hands to clean up. Especially knowing what her sister is capable of…" Elias said, crudely. Hans stopped, a shiver running down his spine. He turned back to face Elias.

"I will try my best," he said through gritted teeth, although there were a million other things he'd rather say to his sinister sibling. He instead faced the door, balanced the silver tray on his arm and gently knocked on the wooden door. "Anna? It's Hans…" he said through the barrier.

"Come in," she said, meekly, so much so that he almost missed it. He opened the door and walked in.

The room was much brighter than before, the drapes completely opened and the windows slightly cracked, letting in cold, mid-winter air. Anna rested, comfortably and nestled in the giant bed. The color had returned to her cheeks, and with the light he could see her freckles splashed across her nose. She looked up at him from her book she was reading, her bright eyes shining.

"Good, I'm _starving_," she said in almost a growl, shutting the book with a _pop_ and setting it down on her lap. Hans set the serving tray upon the food cart by the tea, wheeling it over towards the princess. He pulled up a sitting chair and placed it close to the bed before he took a seat beside her. "What are we having?" she said, eying the spread and wringing her hands together.

"Just you," he said, draping a handkerchief across her lap. "And it's broth and toast; you need to be able to keep it down, so the simpler the better." He reached over to hand her the glass of milk, she recoiled a bit.

"Oh…no. No thank you…" she said, her hand stopping the glass from coming anywhere near her face.

"You don't like milk?" he asked puzzled, pulling the glass back towards him, raising one eyebrow.

"_Despise_ it actually, I can't drink it. Unless, of course, you have _chocolate_ milk, then you wouldn't be able to stop me," she said lightly, crinkling her nose and laughing at her own joke. Hans' mouth turned upward; he wanted to smile too, but he refrained. "You know, you can laugh, it won't kill you," she said, rolling her eyes. Hans ignored her, pushing the tray towards her.

"Here. Eat." he said in nearly a grunt, she stared at him.

"Well, aren't _you_ a gentleman."

"You need your strength, you're not going to get better if you don't eat," he said, mechanically. She smirked, folding her arms across her chest in mock defiance.

"I'm actually not supposed to feed myself."

"What," he said flatly. It wasn't a question. He knew right away what she was getting at. "I'm not-"

"You're gonna hafta feed me, Hans," she said with a smug smile painted across her lips. She was loving this.

"No, no. Nope." Hans said, huffily. She remained motionless, staring into his eyes stubbornly. "Absolutely _not_, Anna. You are perfectly capable of lifting a spoon from a bowl to your own face, you don't need me to do it for you."

"Doctor's orders," she shrugged. "You wouldn't want my fever to come back, would you? You're supposed to be taking care of me, remember?" They stared at one another for a moment, and it was increasingly apparent she wasn't going to let this one go, it was too fun for her.

"You've gotta be _kidding_ me," he grumbled under his breath, picking up the spoon. He hesitated, staring at the bowl and shaking his head. If it wasn't so annoying he would find this situation funny, actually.

_ Hilarious_.

"I sure am hungry," she said aloud, her little hands clasped in her lap, waiting. Hans dipped the spoon in the broth and brought it to her lips. She looked down at the steaming spoon.

"_Hansy_…" she said in a bit of a whine. He looked towards the heavens, sighing irritably.

_ God help me._

"What now?" he asked, his patience running thinner by the second.

"Could you blow on it please? I would hate to burn my delicate, royal mouth…" she teased. Hans never took his glare away from her as he brought the spoon to his lips, blowing on the broth to cool it. She smiled triumphantly.

"You just love this, don't you?" he asked, unenthusiastically. She couldn't contain her chuckles at this point.

"You have _no_ idea," she laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. He took the spoon and jammed it in her open mouth, she nearly choked on it. "Hey!" she yelled through coughing.

"Whoops, sorry," Hans said, however clear that he was not sorry at all. Now he smirked to himself.

"Whatever," she said, but her smile indicated she wasn't sore about it. Hans continued to repeat the pattern, blowing on her soup and bringing it to her mouth. "This is pretty good," she finally said after a few bites.

"I'm glad it's to your liking," Hans said, although his tone indicated he couldn't care less. She shrugged a bit.

"I mean, it's not a lobster dinner or anything, but…" she added. She stared off, recounting a memory. "Oh, what I wouldn't give for some Danishes about how," she sighed.

"That's right. I recall your penchant for sweets," he said, thoughtfully. She turned her gaze back to him and smiled, seemingly happy that he remembered.

"Yeah…remember how many we ate at the coronation?" she remembered, laughing a bit to herself. "That should have scared you off right away. It's not healthy."

"Oh well, you only live once, right?" he commented without thinking. He wished he hadn't chosen that particular statement, since her near death was what got him into this mess in the first place. She seemed to think about that too. They both sat in an awkward silence for a moment. "Um…open," he instructed, bringing the spoon back towards her face. She took a bite, sitting back on the pillows and sighing.

"That seems like a lifetime ago," she said aloud, her eyes sheepishly finding his. He shrunk a bit at the thought. For a split second he recalled holding her in his arms, spinning and waltzing her across the crowded dance floor. But as fast as it came, it faded away.

"Yeah, I suppose it does." He lifted the spoon, she shook her head weakly.

"I am good for now," she said, her eyes looking tired. He could tell it was taking a lot out of her to socialize; she suddenly looked exhausted. He moved the tray away, standing and beginning to fluff up her pillows, her large eyes looking up at him intently from below. He brought the satin sheets up, followed by the heavy comforter, tucking her in. "You're good at this," she said. "Like, surprisingly good at this." He paused, looking down at her. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell her about his mother, but then again, she was the one that wanted to get to know him.

"Well, it's not my first time," he said after a moment, finding his seat and settling in once more.

"No offense, by the way. You just don't really come across as the nurturing type," clarified. He nodded somberly; he wasn't. "Wh-who was it?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"Who did you take care of?" Hans sat back in his chair, taking in a deep breath and staring at the beautiful, inquisitive princess. He fidgeted with his hands a bit, still hesitant to begin this story.

"My mother," he finally spit out quickly, as to not let it linger.

"Oh…I-I'm sorry, I didn't know," Anna said, quietly. He opened his mouth to speak, to say anything about that time in his life, but nothing would come out. "You…you don't have to talk about it," she said sweetly, placing her hand on his forearm. He smiled politely, clenching his jaw.

"Would it be weird if I said that I actually kind of want to?" he pondered aloud after a moment.

"No, of course not." She shook her head sympathetically. Anna then settled in, like a child awaiting a bedtime story. Hans leaned in, propping himself up flush against the bed.

"I was little, I think about eight or so, when my mother fell ill. I-" he paused, pulling the memory from a place in his mind he clearly hadn't rummaged through for quite some time. "I remember when it first happened. It was summer…we were playing outside in the courtyard. We had been playing hide and seek. I climbed one of the apple trees, waiting for her to come find me. But…she never did. I finally climbed down after a long time; I searched everywhere for her before I finally found her collapsed by the rose bushes. She never really got back up after that. She was bedridden for months, until she passed away in the fall." Hans said these things so detached, as if it were a story about someone else that he'd recounted a million times. He was surprised when he looked up to see that Anna's eyes had misted over.

"I'm… _so_… sor-"

"Please. _Don't_," Hans said, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. "It was a lifetime ago. I hardly even think of it now."

"It just must have been hard, taking care of her like that," she said sympathetically.

"It wasn't. She had nurses and doctors. I just mostly stuck by her side and doted on her with a lack of anything _else_ to do, it wasn't as if my brothers were playing with me or keeping me company. In a house full of people, all I had was her. And after she was gone, I had no one."

"Oh, you _know_ I know exactly how you feel, what with Elsa and all-" she stopped herself, cleared her throat nervously. "I didn't have anyone, either."

"I know."

"You know…" Anna reached over, placing her hand on his, a weak smile crossing her face. "It _does_ get better, though. If you would just allow yourself to open up to the possibility-" Hans stood abruptly, adjusting the lapels of his coat.

"You should really get some rest, Princess. I will be in to check on you soon," he stated, turning quickly and beginning to walk out of the room.

"Wait!" Anna called after him. He stopped, wishing that he could just disappear already.

"What?" he asked, never turning back towards her.

"_Please_, Hans. I've been in this bedroom for days now. I…I'm restless. I want to get out of here." Hans waited, then he sighed, turning and nearing her once more. He felt bad for her, all cooped up and so far away from home. He wished he could help, but even just being out of bed for a couple of moments the day before caused her to collapse from exhaustion.

"Anna, I think you're too sick for that," he said, recalling the conversation he'd overheard in the hallway with Elias and Dr. Roahl.

"_Hans_-"

"Anna, just rest. I'll see what I can do," he insisted, before turning around and walking out the door, leaving the bewildered princess to wonder if she'd said something wrong.

* * *

><p>Hans walked the corridors aimlessly, biding his time until the Princess had a substantial opportunity to fall asleep. Letting Anna in was harder than Hans had anticipated. He wasn't expecting their exchange to go so well despite the fact that he still found her incredibly irritating and childish.<p>

Although, what he hated to admit was that he _didn't_ hate it. It was kind of nice to have someone to talk to other than Marguerite, Dr. Svedsen, Edvard or some of the other servants. However, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable by Anna's constant need for understanding and coddling him, like he was a fragile child that could snap at any given moment. Everything felt loaded, as if she were just searching for reasons in their interactions and his stories to say 'ah, yes, _that's_ why you did what you did," when in all reality, perhaps he was just an awful person.

Hans turned towards the library. The thought occurred to him that perhaps he could browse the library for a few books to keep Anna entertained while she was bedridden, and hoping to be able to spend some quiet time alone. It was clear, however, when he entered, that was not going to be an option.

Three of his brothers were in the lounge, their eyes peering back at him inquisitively. The first one he noticed was Prince Frederick, although his presence did not surprise him at all. Frederick was a scholar, and he was always in the library. In fact, he would spend days on end in there, browsing the books and reading, organizing and reorganizing over and over again. It was not uncommon to see him asleep on the sitting sofa, a book opened upon his chest, ready to be picked up again and read from where he left off. He stared up at Hans, his dark hair slicked back, his eyes peering out over his spectacles.

Next was Edvard, visiting from the cathedral, cloaked in his typical robes and rosaries. He was reading the bible, of course. He didn't seem put off by Hans' presence, simply glanced up, acknowledged him with a nod and went back to his scripture without so much as a word.

Lastly, however, was Prince Isaak, perhaps the most handsome and infamous of the Southern Isle Princes throughout the Isle Kingdoms. He was tall, incredibly well-read and handsome. He had light, auburn hair like Hans, it was much shorter though. He had a perfectly angled jaw and a clean shave always; in his entire life, Hans had never seen the handsome prince in a disheveled state. Even now, he was in his more casual attire of a wool sweater and riding pants, Isaak still looked the part of a regal leader. He raised his eyebrows, setting down the book he'd been sifting through.

"Oh, Hansy. What brings you to this part of the castle?" he asked, his deep, booming voice echoing. Both Edvard and Frederick glanced at their more obnoxious brother, clearly annoyed at his disturbance. Hans paused before walking over towards a bookshelf, running his fingers along the spines of various books before him. "I see you've escaped from your chores to grace us with your presence," he added, nearing Hans with an ornery grin.

"Oh, just let him _be_," Frederick groaned in Hans' defense, never taking his eyes from the page.

"What, I can't greet my littlest brother?" Isaak asked in mock offense. "So, Hansy, is the Princess still alive or have you off'd her yet?"

"You know, you should really leave the insults to Sedak. He's much better at it," Hans said, turning to his big brother and eying him irritably. "But, then again, you've never been the brains of this group, have you?" he added. Isaak's smile dissipated.

"You really think you have any room to come in here and insult me? You're pathetic. At least I haven't destroyed the Westergaard name with treason and attempted murder," he said, shrugging and beginning to walk off, losing interest.

"No, you've destroyed it in a way only you could, one skirt at a time." That was enough to get Isaak fuming, who hurried back towards Hans, seething.

"How dare you, you little rat. Have you forgotten your place? Because last I checked it was serving me meals and washing my linens."

"That's enough!" Edvard said, uncharacteristically passionate. Both Isaak and Hans looked at the holy man, rising from his wooden bench and clasping his hands together. "This family has suffered enough loss and hate, can't we just act like civilized men?"

"I hardly think Isaak can spell civilized, let alone act it," Hans spat, before realizing quickly that it was a big mistake. In a rage, Isaak leapt forward, his whole body tackling the youngest prince. The two scuffled, punching and ripping at one another, before falling backwards into the bookshelf, toppling it over and sending books lying around the room. This action was enough to get Frederick out of his chair, he and Edvard rushing towards the dueling princes to break it up. They were finally able to pull Hans off of his flailing brother, but not before Hans got some decent swings in at the handsome prince's face.

"You are going to pay for that," Isaak threatened, out of breath and clutching his palm to his left eye; Hans could see the beginnings of a bruise just under it.

"Oh my, Isaak. I seem to have maimed your glorious face," Hans said, equally breathless but feeling victorious. Frederick had to hold Isaak back with all his might to keep the prince from lunging at his mouthy little brother once more. Hans, however, felt like he was on top of the world. Never before had he ever so much as stood up for himself, let alone get in a nice right hook, even though he was quite sure he may have just fractured his hand.

"Get him out of here," Edvard demanded, loudly. Frederick helped Isaak to stand.

"Good luck getting another princess to fall for you with that mug," Hans said under his breath, but loud enough that Isaak glared at him once more.

"Oh I will have no problem with that, little brother. I shall start with _yours_," he glowered. Hans didn't like that comment one bit. Frederick walked Isaak out of the library and into the hallway, leaving Hans to bask in the mess they'd made to mull over that statement.

_ I shall start with yours._

"Why must you antagonize him, so?" Edvard sighed, helping Hans to his feet and dusting the prince off. "Turn the other cheek, Hans. It's what our good Lord asks of us, is it not?" he asked, his voice calming and serene. Hans shrugged.

"I'm just tired of getting pushed around," Hans said quietly. Edvard nodded, slightly sympathetic.

"You'd just better hope he doesn't run off and tattle on you to Elias, you're in enough hot water as it is you know…"

"I know," Hans agreed. Edvard smiled a bit, patting his brother on the shoulder. Hans smiled; it was the first pat on the back he could remember ever receiving, and to have it from a brother, nonetheless. It was short-lived. Edvard's smile weakened as he studied the books sprawled about.

"Now, get this mess cleaned up so we can ice your hand," Edvard said lightly. Hans laughed and agreed, beginning to pick up the books one by one with the hand that didn't ache. It was then that he glanced up and saw it in the corner of the library: an old wooden wheelchair. One that may be perfect for wheeling around a princess that was desperate to get out of her bedroom chamber.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope ya'll are loving reading it as much as I am loving writing it. xoxo<strong>


	12. Warming Up

**Chapter 11:**

_Warming Up_

* * *

><p>"Ouch!" Hans yelled. His hand was burning; he was entirely certain that at this point it had to be completely broken.<p>

"Oh, _hush,_ you big baby. Hold still," Marguerite scolded, pressing the ice harder to his bruising knuckles. "We need to get the swelling down." Hans was in a great deal of pain, but the fact that he'd given Isaak a black eye was too delighting to let it bother him too badly. Marguerite sat, ice in hand, trying to nurse the poor prince's hand to health, Edvard beside them. "Now, tell me again how this happened?" Marguerite demanded in her motherly tone. Hans went to speak, but Edvard stepped in first.

"Hans here took out some pent up aggression on Isaak's angelic face," Edvard said, trying his best to contain his smirk. Marguerite grinned, shaking her head.

"Boys will be boys," she sighed before leaning in towards Hans, her kind eyes sparkling. "And Isaak has been needing a whooping for a long time, if you ask me. Always complaining about my cooking, make it your _damn_ self…" she muttered.

"_Marguerite_! Don't encourage him…" Edvard gasped, feigning mock disgust. He raised one eyebrow at his wincing, pain-ridden little brother. "Besides, Hans had a leg up on his brother. He may have a broken hand but it was Isaak that walked away with a black eye and a bruised ego." Hans smiled weakly, still on a bit of a high from the fight, and a little loopy from the pain medicine that Marguerite had fed him.

"What did he mean by that anyway," Hans mused aloud, his mind clearly on other things. "_I shall start with yours_," he sneered in his best Isaak impression, although it was still notable awful. Edvard slapped his brother on the back.

"I should say that means he will be trying to court princess Anna, wouldn't you agree?" Hans shook his head disgustedly. "I don't see what the problem is; he's distinguished, charming, _single_…" Edvard listed, although he sounded less than sincere.

"Manipulative, promiscuous, lying…" Hans continued. "No, Princess Anna would _never_ court someone like Isaak," Hans scoffed.

"Why not? She agreed to marry _you_…" Edvard pointed out, shrugging nonchalantly. "Are you not all those above things?"

"I still have one good hand, Edvard. I'd watch your words carefully…" Hans warned in jest.

"What does it matter to you, anyway. You can't stand the girl. Let Isaak take her off your hands," Marguerite suggested, beginning to wrap Hans' maimed hand in gauze.

"What? What happened to all of love and marriage talk from this morning?" Hans asked, his mouth agape at her complete change of tune. Marguerite sighed.

"You shot that down pretty quickly, I assumed you meant it…" Marguerite rationalized, her eyes darting from his hand to his eyes skeptically, as if she were trying to bait him. It was working. Hans sat, silently stirring. Even though Anna wasn't his favorite person in the world, even though her determination cost him the throne of Arendelle, he surely didn't think she deserved to be at the disposal of another Westergaard.

_ No, surely she doesn't deserve _that_._

"Well, I certainly can't just let her get wooed by Isaak, that would be disastrous…" He noted, before noticing Edvard and Marguerite staring at him. "F-for various reasons. Certainly he will break her heart, and then any trade negotiations with Arendelle will be back out the window…and I can't expect she'd be too kind to me at my trial if yet another Southern Isles prince destroyed her…" Hans said, rubbing his chin with his good hand in deep thought. "No, that wouldn't end well for me at all."

"Perhaps you could try… Oh, never mind…" Marguerite said, eying Edvard, who seemed to have a similar idea.

"What?" Hans inquired.

"You won't like it," Marguerite said, dismissively.

"After the food cart idea, I probably won't. But I am kind of at a loss here," Hans said, looking between his brother and Marguerite desperately.

"You could try being nice to her," Edvard suggested.

"_Ha_!" Hans exploded, unintentionally. "I mean, how does that solve me predicament?"

"Well, if Princess Anna was too busy being cared for and doted on by _you_, perchance she will be too distracted to be wooed by your brother, eh?"

"Here we go with the _love_ talk again," Hans sighed, running his hand through his hair, annoyed.

"No one said anything about love, Hans," Edvard said. "You don't have to get her to fall in _love_ with you, that would be another selfish, dishonest ploy of yours to get what you want. Why don't you try being her friend?" Hans sat, thinking it over. Perhaps it was the medication. Perhaps it was the victory he'd had over his irritating, awful brother. Perhaps it was human contact in general. But Hans felt himself warming up to the idea, and he realized he may have already discovered the perfect way to start over with Anna on the right foot.

* * *

><p>The room was <em>freezing<em>, illuminated by a dusting of snow upon the furniture of Elsa's private chamber. She was pacing back and forth, haphazardly packing a satchel. Kristoff stood in the doorway, feeling quite uncomfortable with the idea of coming in any further to the Queen's bedroom. His hat was off, he was wringing it in his hands nervously.

"Wait…so…Anna is _sick_?" Kristoff asked, trying to stuff down the upset in his voice. From what he knew about the fragile Queen, she was most clearly worried enough for the _both_ of them, he didn't need to exacerbate things with his own apprehension. It was bad enough that Anna left without even telling him she was going, nor caring about what _he_ would think of the matter; now she was hundreds of miles away in the kingdom of their enemy, and sick to boot.

_ Oh, Anna…what are we going to do with you…_

"Yes," Elsa choked out, blinking away tears. Kristoff waited for her to elaborate, but it was clear she was too distraught to do so without prompting.

"Do they know what it is?" he inquired. Elsa shook her head, frustrated.

"No, just that it's bad. She's weak, she can't keep food down," she said, panic in her voice. "I'm such a _fool_ for letting her go, I should have-" Elsa grumbled, giving herself a firm scolding as she shoved various articles of clothing in her bag.

Kristoff felt nothing but pity for the poor woman, beating herself up for something she clearly couldn't control. He well enough that Elsa wouldn't have been able to stop Anna from going to the Southern Isles; when Anna got an idea of something she wanted to do, she went right along and did it, regardless of the odds. It was that same plucky disposition that got her into trouble most of the time.

Kristoff entered the room further, standing in the way of the Queen's pacing. He took hold of her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks.

"Not _now_, Kristoff-" she said, her face white with worry. He wasn't sure if it was worry for her sister, or worry that her uneven emotions could potentially leave him impaled on a shard of ice if he got too close. He assumed it was a mixture of the two, but he was willing to take that chance. He glanced down at her, his soft, sympathetic eyes meeting her own. He tried his best to keep from shuddering as he spoke to her; then again, he was used to being cold.

_ Ice is my life._

"Hey, it's okay," he said, calmingly. In fact, it was so convincing that he almost believed it himself. Elsa's face collided with Kristoff's broad, strong chest, and for a moment she let herself be weak, vulnerable. She let out a few gentle, silent sobs before pulling away and wiping away the tears quickly, defiantly.

"I leave for the Southern Isles tonight; please don't try to stop me," she said sternly. Kristoff stared at her, his eyes wide.

"I wasn't going to," he reassured. "But… if you'd let me, I'd like to come along, too." Elsa paused, furrowing her brow and thought before she shrugged a bit, nodded.

"That would be fine," she agreed, moving from his arms to continue to pack. Kristoff turned to leave the room, nearing the tall, chamber door. "I never should have let her go alone, Kristoff…" she said regretfully, her hands clasped together over her heart. Kristoff paused at the door, staring at the troubled Queen. A weak, ironic smile spread across his face.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, your majesty," he comforted. "At least she didn't feel the need to travel hundreds of miles away just to get away from you." he said somberly. Elsa's eyes widened, her mouth dropping. "I might not be the smartest man, but I'm not _that_ dumb…"

"Kristoff, no, I-" she stammered. "Look, Anna didn't-" she tried to defend the actions of her sister. Kristoff's smile faded into a look of muted sadness.

"It's fine, Elsa. Let's just go get your sister back, safe and sound."

* * *

><p>Anna began to stir, awakening from her nap. She yawned, sitting up in the bed to stretch. She snapped her arms out, only noticing Hans sleeping, all propped up in the sitting chair beside her, when her hand made direct and sudden contact with his face.<p>

"Ow!" he yelped, rubbing his nose. "Oh, _come_ on!" He glared right at her as she recoiled, giggling.

"Whoopsie," she laughed.

"Well, that's one way to wake up," he said rhetorically.

"You know, now that I think of it, I may have punched you in the face more times than I can count at this point…" she mused. Her face turned more serious. "Also, what are you doing here? I didn't ask for bedside service, you creep," she said huffily, pulling the blankets up to maintain her modesty.

"Oh, princess. I've seen _much_ more of you than that, no need to be shy," he said crudely, ripping her blankets down and off of her. Anna scrambled down towards the bottom of the bed, clutching the blankets in her hands, frustration painting her face. "And just think!" he leaned down, his face a mere few inches from hers. "If things had gone better in Arendelle, I'd have seen every _inch_ of you by now," he smirked. Anna gasped, pushing his face away with her hand.

"That's no way to talk to a lady, sir," Anna said, her eyebrows low.

"Well," he sighed, standing up and placing a hand to her forehead, checking for a temperature. She flinched at his soft touch, like a nervous cat. "It's a good thing there are no ladies here, then, right?" he said, turning and walking towards her door. Anna stared after him.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going _now_?" she asked, nervously, throwing the blankets off of her herself this time and standing abruptly. Hans glanced back at her, watching her wobble a bit, clearly underestimating her weakness.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, running back towards her and arriving just in time for her to fall into his arms. He held the princess up, who looked up at him embarrassedly through blue eyes and thick eyelashes, clinging to the fabric of the front of his jacket. "What are you _doing_?" he chuckled, flabbergasted at her erratic and desperate behavior. "Are you crazy?"

"Ohhhh, no you don't! I am _not_ getting left in here all alone again," she grunted determinedly as she pulled herself up to him, their bodies close.

"Why do I feel like we've been in this position before?" he joked, an eyebrow cocked. Hans glanced down at her, suddenly noticing just how incredibly thin and sheer her nightgown really was. He gulped, cleared his throat uncomfortably, and lead her backwards to sit upon the bed once more.

"Are you leaving again?" she asked, wringing her hands nervously.

"_Relax_, Anna. I was just getting something I left outside in the corridor for you," he explained, her cheeks beginning to pinken.

"Oh," she said quietly. "Well, what is it?" she asked, quickly deflecting from their previous awkwardness.

"Hold on," he said, and if she hadn't known better, she could almost even sense a smidge of excitement in his voice. He jogged over to the door, opening it and disappearing for a few seconds before reentering, wheeling in an old, wooden wheelchair. Anna gawked at it, unimpressed at first.

"A wheelchair?" she asked, flatly. Hans raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to connect the dots. Much to his delight, her face began to light up as she realized just what a wheelchair meant for her. "A wheelchair!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly and then cupping her smiling mouth. "Does this mean…you mean I can-" she stammered. Hans nodded.

"You may leave this horrible prison we've kept you locked up in," he said dramatically, wheeling it towards her. She reached out to touch it, as if it weren't real, so relieved that she could get out of that room, finally.

"Why did you- When can I-" she muttered. She glanced up at him, her smile beaming. "Why did you do this?" she asked. Hans shrugged.

"I figured that all those years stuffed up in a castle were enough," he said thoughtfully. She bit her lip.

"Thank you," she finally said. Hans made a face, sighing heavily. "What?"

"Well, I don't know how to say this, Anna but you look…" he paused, her eyes looking up at him hopefully. She truly was a natural beauty, even with her dark circles under her eyes and her wan, sick complexion. "_Awful_," he finished. Her face fell.

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Fancy Pants, I've been sick!" she defended. He laughed at her offense.

"Well, I can't present you at dinner tonight looking like _this_," he said, his hand up at his chin in thought.

"Dinner? Like…real food? With people?" she exclaimed, not able to contain the joy in her voice. Hans nodded, then turned towards the chamber door.

"Marguerite!" he called. From the hallway, Marguerite entered with a brush in her hand, a dress draped over her other arm. She smiled widely at the princess, an extra bounce in her step as she excitedly neared her.

"Such an honor to meet you, Princess," Marguerite beamed, curtseying. Anna looked between Hans and Marguerite suspiciously. She leaned towards Hans.

"Was she…just sitting outside the door waiting for me to wake up?" she asked accusingly. Hans waved his hand dismissingly.

"Oh, she was fine," he said. Marguerite nodded, happily.

"I didn't mind. I was just so excited to get to meet you, I've heard _all_ about you," she gushed. Hans glanced in her direction, laughing nervously.

"O-okay, Marguerite," Hans said, warningly, patting her on the back. "That's enough…"

"_Everything_."

"I see," Anna said smugly, eying Hans, enjoying the sight of him squirming.

"It's always, 'Princess Anna _this_,' or 'Princess Anna _that_,' with this one," Marguerite continued, much to Hans' horror. Her words finally trailed off as she noticed his death glare in her direction.

"_She gets it_," Hans snapped, embarrassed. He glanced back over at Anna, who was trying to suppress her laughter. "But…here. We've had a dress altered for you," he presented, holding up a royal blue gown with a heart shaped bodice, lined in gold. Anna's eyes grew huge as she reached out and admired the velvet top. "It was my mother's. Consider it a gift."

"You guys, this is beautiful!" She took the dress in her hands, delicately. "I…no. I couldn't…I can't!"

"Nonsense, she's not getting any use out of it, now, is she?" Hans said, albeit a bit morbidly.

"How-how do you know it will fit?" Anna asked, looking at Hans skeptically.

"Remember how I said I've seen much more of you?" he teased. Anna's face turned beet red.

"We took your measurements while you slept!" Marguerite spouted off, delightedly. Anna paled at the implication.

"Wonderful," she groaned.

"Oh, darling, you have nothing to be ashamed of," Marguerite comforted.

"_I'll say_," Hans mumbled under his breath, reddening when he realized he'd said it aloud. He coughed, nodded. "I'll leave you ladies to it…be ready in fifteen minutes, dinner will be served soon and we wouldn't want to be late," Hans instructed, back to business. After a couple of fumbling seconds, Hans turned and walked towards the door, stumbling and nearly tripping the Persian rug on his way out, before finally reaching the door and shutting it behind him.

* * *

><p>Hans paced the hallway outside of Anna's bedroom chamber, realizing after a few steps that this was most likely going to be an ongoing theme for him, pacing. He didn't know why he felt nervous, just hoped that his actions would be recognized as kind in her eyes; he'd never been too good at that without it being a charade. He tried to remember who he was the first time he met her, how he impressed her then. He didn't feel like he was being a fraudulent version of himself, but then again so much had happened, so much had changed, since the night of the coronation.<p>

He checked his pocket watch, realizing it was well past the fifteen minutes he'd allotted them. He considered knocking on the door, but what good was that? He'd just appear impatient and demanding, which he was, but he would really like to avoid seeming that way.

On cue, the doors opened, and Marguerite poked her head out.

"We're ready," she sang, a knowing and mischievous look in her eyes. Hans took in a sharp breath. Was _he_ ready? He didn't know. But there was no going back now.

"Alright," he said, waving her on. "Let's go on with it, then."

Marguerite opened the door wide, to reveal a waiting and lovely Anna. She was draped in the blue, velvet dress that seemed to bring out her eyes and make her hair pop all at the same time. Her hair was up in a braided bun, her cheeks rouged and her lips red, ever the picture of elegance and beauty. Hans closed his mouth, only after realizing that it was agape. He nodded, bowing down slightly.

"What do you think?" she asked, twirling a bit, the skirt flowing out to the sides.

"You look…" he paused, searching for the right words. The added pressure from Marguerite and Anna's hopeful faces didn't help. "It seems to fit you well," he settled on, watching their faces fall at the same time. "Now, let's get you in that chair before you wear yourself out."

* * *

><p>Hans wheeled Anna down the corridor, giving her a full tour of the sprawling castle. They'd visited the ballroom, the library, the conservatory and the conference room. Hans was running out of neutral territories to show her, but she seemed happy and relieved to be out of her chamber.<p>

"What about your room," she asked, a little deviousness in her voice.

"What _about_ my room…" he asked.

"I want to know where the Devil sleeps," Anna shrugged. Hans glanced down at her, who in turn looked upward at him, her blue eyes shining. Hans smiled down at her wryly.

"That would actually be my brother Sedak's room, and you certainly do not want to go in there," he deadpanned.

"What about the dinning hall?" she suggested, noticing they'd rounded the same corner for the second time.

"You'll be there for dinner soon enough."

"Well, show me your favorite room, then."

"I don't…" he paused. The portrait room! Of course, he'd not shown her the sitting area by the window, the portrait gallery. "Alright," he said, picking up the pace. Before she knew it, Hans had her at a sprinting speed, the wheelchair whirling down the corridors rapidly.

"H-Hey! Slow down!" she shouted, but Hans didn't listen. They approached a set of closed double doors, the momentum so great that she nearly flew out of the chair when he halted to a stop. "Thanks for the adrenaline rush, I think," Anna said sarcastically. Hans came around the chair, enthusiastically taking the princess' hands in his own.

"This is my favorite place in the whole castle," he smiled. She stared at him with a goofy, confused smile.

"Okay, show me.'

Hans turned and opened the doors with a bang, the evening sunlight pouring through the windows of the grand portrait gallery, illuminating everything in its warm glow. Anna peered in, beginning to wheel herself forward. Hans turned towards her, walking backwards, his arms outstretched.

"This is the portrait gallery," he announced, although the way she was looking around the whole room in awe made it clear she'd already drawn that conclusion.

"Wow," she breathed. "It's huge, way bigger than mine."

"My father had commissioned paintings from all the royal families we'd met."

"They're beautiful."

"I used…I used to spend a lot of time in here as a kid," Hans stated, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Anna glanced at him, her eyes widening.

"What happened to your hand?" she'd finally noticed. Hans pulled his hand away, extending it out and taking a good look at it.

"Oh this?" he asked. She nodded. "I broke it saving some orphans from a fire. You were asleep for a long time," he joked. She smirked, her eyes narrow, her face unconvinced.

"Yeah right, what really happened." Hans suddenly felt embarrassed to admit his scuffle with Isaak, since it seemed so petty and unimportant now.

"I got into a fight," he mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"With who?"

"My brother," he admitted.

"Which one?"

"Well, here, let me show you," he said, turning her around and wheeling her down a long row of handsome princes staring back at her, their portraits all hanging in a row. Her eyes grew large and her mouth hung open as she studied them.

"Wow, there really _are_ a lot of you," she breathed. He chuckled. "And you all look so much a like," she observed. "I've met this one," she said, pointing to Elias. "He's the king now." Hans nodded. "Is he married?"

"Yes, to Princess…well, I guess she'd be considered Queen now, Giana. She's very reserved and beautiful…Don't know what she sees in him." Anna smirked.

"And this one?" she said, pointing to the next portrait, the prince in glasses.

"Frederick. A serial bachelor, more interested in learning than anything else. And this one," he pointed to the next one, "is Galen. He's hardly here; he lives a more humble life in the kingdom of Gerveis, he'd got two cute little princesses of his own." Anna glanced up at Hans, surprised.

"I wouldn't expect you to have a soft spot for children," she said. Hans shrugged.

"They're not just _children,_ they are _my_ nieces. And they adore me, so the feeling is mutual. Plus, Galen's never been too awful to me." Anna's eyes reverted back to the paintings, eying the fourth prince.

"And this one?" she asked. Hans was quiet, taking in a deep breath.

"That's Andreas. He was the only brother that was consistently kind to me, growing up. He passed away a few years ago…he got quite ill and just never recovered. His widow and son live in Corona, now."

"My aunt and uncle are the rulers of Corona, and cousin is the Princess," Anna said, lightly.

"Rupunzel?" She glanced up at him, confused.

"Do you know her?"

"Yes, my family has done trade with Corona for generations. My brother Mathias was betrothed to her before she went missing as an infant, but by the time they'd found her she was already spoken for. She's wonderful," he recalled. "And this.." he pointed to the next one. "This is Edvard. He's a good man, he chose a life of celibacy and priesthood. He's here all the time, though."

"I can't believe one of you is a priest! That's hard to believe."

"We're not _all_ that bad, Anna," Hans sighed. "Well, not to others, at least. To me, they weren't so kind."

"Onto the next!" Anna demanded, changing the subject. "Are these two twins?"

"Yes, but they are drunks; they are not all that worth knowing, I regret to say," he said sadly. "They were especially hard to stomach, growing up. They did, however, give me my first taste of wine at nine years old."

"That seems a bit young," Anna reflected.

"Well, they only did it so they could tell my father afterwards, I got 10 lashes for that one!"

"Sounds awful," she groaned. She peered up at the next one. "Well, hello there," Anna growled, staring at the portrait of Isaak.

"Oh, _come on_," Hans groaned. "You couldn't possibly tell me that-"

"What? He's dreamy," Anna drooled. "Why didn't they send _him_ to Elsa's coronation, huh?" she jested, elbowing Hans playfully.

"Because Isaak has a reputation that usually precedes him."

"For being carved out of marble like a Greek god?" she teased.

"Uh, no. And I am going to pretend I didn't hear that," Hans sighed, Anna giggling. "And anyway, he looks much worse with a black eye," Hans said, finally alluding to his broken hand.

"_That's_ the one you got into a fight with!? Over what? Who has better hair?" she laughed, snorting a bit.

"Don't worry about it," Hans said simply, wheeling her forward.

"Well, _he_ doesn't look very nice," she observed, staring at the portrait of Sedak.

"He's not," Hans said, clenching his jaw. He rounded the wheelchair, kneeling down beside her. "Listen, Sedak is by far the worst of the Westergaards. Should you see him, keep your contact brief. Just…trust me on this one," he pled. She nodded obediently.

"I'm sure you have your reasons…" Anna said. Hans pointed to the next two portraits, another set of twins.

"Mathias and Magnus," he announced respectively. "Magus is Admiral of the Fleet of the Southern Isles Navy, just above me. They could not be any more different, though. Mathias is a poet, and he is engaged to Princess Agnus of the West Cannes."

"And this one?" she said pointing to Felix.

"Felix was actually betrothed to Elsa." Anna's face perked up at the mention of her sister's name.

"He was?"

"Yes, before your parent's…um," he stopped, realizing how insensitive this conversation was becoming. "Anyways, he is ruling Romany with alongside his wife, Queen Adelaide," Hans finished. Anna wheeled herself closer to the final portrait, eyeing it intently. She studied it, slightly awestruck before turning back towards him.

"Tell me about this one," she said simply. Hans shrugged, somberly.

"What do you want to know?"

"Whatever you want to say about him."

"What can I say?" Hans asked, rhetorically. Anna never let her gaze falter from his. He sighed again. "He was different from the rest of the brothers; born of a different mother, a commoner. And his brothers never let him forget it. So he tried very hard, to no avail, to impress his brothers and be noticed by someone. Unfortunately, it never got much better, either."

"I imagine that was very hard," she whispered. Hans quickly wheeled her around, taking her away from the shrine of the thirteen princes. He took her to the sitting window, where he pointed to a large, lifesize painting that hung beside it.

"Do you know who these people are?" he asked, rolling her right up to the family portrait of Anna, Elsa and their parents. Anna's eyes immediately filled with tears.

"Wha- how did you…where did you...?" she stammered, her words trailing off. Hans pushed her closer, her fingertips grazing the canvass over her own, young face.

"Your parents sent it long ago. I used to spend hours in here at a time when I was little, sitting in that window, reading books and talking to the enchanting, sweet princesses that stared back at me," he confessed. Anna swallowed hard. She didn't realize until this moment just how much she missed her parents, how much she missed Elsa.

"Hans, I-" she paused, wiping away tears quickly, but it was too late. He'd already seen that she was crying.

"What? What is it?" He asked, concerned.

"Just…thank you. Thank you for taking me out of my room today. Thank you for this, all of this," she said, her arms outstretched as she scanned the room all over again. He placed his hand on hers, smiling warmly.

"Thank you for letting me," he said.

"Your majesty?" They both jumped, startled to see a servant had entered the room, interrupting their moment. "Dinner is served."

* * *

><p><strong>an**

**Wow, that was a lot to write tonight.**

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	13. Fireside Chats

**Chapter 12:**

_Fireside Chats_

"Listen, _before_ we get in there," Hans said apprehensively, pushing Anna's chair down the long hallway towards the dining room, "I apologize in advance for whatever is said or whatever should happen at dinner."

"What kind of catastrophic events do you expect to occur?" Anna teased lightly, her eyebrow raised.

"My brothers can be…_well_… horrible, to put it bluntly."

"So I've heard," she grinned, crinkling her nose as she gazed up at him.

"I don't think you _understand_. I generally make it a rule to avoid them at _all_ costs. Most of-" he paused, wincing a bit, "Okay, ALL of them like nothing more than to use me as a way to get out their pent up aggression. I can assume since you'll be in attendance tonight as an audience, it will be especially rough."

"W-wait, stop," she demanded. Hans halted, and Anna turned her whole body towards him, her eyes confused and troubled. "Hans, why are we even doing this if you hate it so much?" Hans sighed, shrugging a bit.

"Well, Elias requested you come to a dinner when you felt well enough and I felt like it could be a nice time…for _you_ at least. Being around new people, getting a _real_ meal with _real_ conversation," he sputtered off. He faltered, the answer becoming a little clearer the more he mulled on it. He shrugged again, his face becoming quite somber. "To be honest, I probably _deserve_ to be at the mercy of my brothers in front of you." Anna's face fell into a look of astonishment.

"Is that who you think I am? Someone who wants to see someone, even someone like _you_, get mistreated as a means of punishment?" Anna asked, aghast. Hans could tell she was offended by his generalization of her, which he definitely hadn't intended on.

"Well, I can't say I know you particularly _well_, Anna. But if _I_ were you, I'd probably relish the opportunity…especially after everything that happened in Arendelle."

"I can assure you, I wish you no more anguish than you've already had to experience in this family, no matter _what_ happened in Arendelle," she said, her tone still slightly offended.

"Then _why_ are you even here? Is it _not_ to get to witness my sentencing? To help paint a picture of me as the monster I am?" Hans asked, becoming a bit more heated than before. Now that he thought about it, he realized that her presence here was only aiding in his demise, yet she was offering her friendship.

"I'm here so people can hear the truth," she replied, finally a bit more calmly, "so that your trial is a fair one." She opened her mouth to say more, but decided against it and turned forward in her chair. Hans sighed, deeply, regretting getting so worked up.

"Look, I'm sorry. I just…I just don't understand this. I don't understand why you chose to come here, o-or why you wanted _me, _of all people, to be your servant. Why you insist on getting to know me… And I definitely do not understand why you are being so kind to me," Hans finally confessed. He knew, no matter how kind she tried to be, that Anna owed _nothing_ to him. Especially kindness and understanding, which was more than baffling to him, to say the least. And how could she go from trying to befriend him to testifying against him at his trial? She turned to him once more, her face serious, her eyes intense.

"I am kind to you because I fear that the monster you _were_ in Arendelle was the result of one too many people being _unkind_." Anna paused, placing her hand on his, sympathetically. "Notice I said '_were_,' because I don't think that's all you are, Hans. I think you made some awful choices, and I _do_ think you should be punished accordingly and fairly… but I also believe in second chances." Hans stared at her, taken aback by her candor; he appreciated it, more than she knew, and more than he had the guts to say to her right then and there. She smiled a bit, turning forward again. "Now then. Let's eat."

Hans didn't say any more on the topic, he simply continued onward towards the dining hall, although his mind was loudly buzzing. They approached the doors and a servant opened it for them. Hans paused, coming around to the front of the chair. He extended his hand outward towards Anna, not unlike the moment he met her, when they were merely two lovely strangers, a bout of carelessness and a hand outstretched to help a damsel in distress.

"Shall we?" he asked. Anna smirked shyly, hesitantly letting him take her hand in his as he helped her up and out of her chair. Hans brought her to his side and linked arms with her. "You can lean on me if you're feeling too weak," he offered quietly, looking into her eyes. She nodded wordlessly and the two of them walked into the dining hall together.

The table was dressed for dinner, the candled chandelier looming above the table and letting off a lovely glow. Beautiful faces peered back at them, many already starting to eat their meals, some already wine-drunk. Anna couldn't help how vastly similar the strangers looked, but darker and broader than Hans himself.

"Ah, Hans! Am I to presume that you get to take a break from _serving_ us to actually _join_ us for dinner tonight?" A portly and bearded prince with hazel eyes, Prince Tomas, slurred from his seat. He was swirling his cup of red wine haphazardly, almost spilling it. Hans ignored his inebriated brother, studying the faces of the seven that happened to be in attendance: tonight was Elias, Frederick, Tomas, Christian, Isaak, Mathias and Sedak. Hans was anxious now; suddenly, he'd forgotten why on earth he'd thought that bringing Anna to dinner with his awful, embarrassing brothers was a good idea.

They watched the two enter the room further, studying them, making silent judgments. Elias was seated at the head of the grand, oak table next to his beautiful wife, Queen Giana, an overzealous smile plastered across his face.

"Princess Anna, we are _so_ pleased you are feeling well enough to join us tonight," he greeted warmly, in a tone Hans had never heard him take, not even with his own wife. Elias was soon standing from his seat and bowing. Anna, who was clearly not particularly used to more formal occasions such as dining in another kingdom, curtseyed nervously.

"Oh, th-thanks," she stammered, awkwardly. Hans walked towards a chair, pulling it out for the princess and gesturing for her to sit. Anna hurried, albeit still quite weakly, towards the seat. She made fleeting eye contact with Hans and thanked him quietly before settling in. Hans took the seat beside her.

The table was impeccably decorated with lavish, gold-plated dishes and silverware. The meal itself, however, was more than enticing, especially for Anna, who hadn't had a decent, solid meal since Arendelle. She picked up her napkin and draped it across her lap, both she and Hans trying desperately to pretend not to notice the deafening, awkward silence they sat in with everyone's watching eyes.

"Are you enjoying your stay?" King Elias finally asked Anna politely, taking a sip of his wine. Hans reached forward and took a huge swig of his, hoping to mute his nagging uneasiness.

"I am. I was lucky enough to get to tour the castle today, thanks to Hans," she nodded happily, the nervousness beginning to dissipate. "I am afraid I am still not feeling quite like myself yet, though…"

"Well, I must say that you look radiantly beautiful, nonetheless, Princess Anna," Isaak said smoothly from across the table. Anna's cheeks pinkened, a goofy smile breaking across her lips as she glanced back at Isaak, a bit starry-eyed. Hans shot a glare quickly in his older brother's direction, who winked in return with his one good eye. Although Hans was smugly amused to see the prince sporting a nice black eye, he still felt his face begin to flush, his ears growing hot.

_Yes, this was a terrible idea. _

"_Aaaanyways_," Hans said, hoping someone would choose to change the subject, and fast. He took another gulp from his wineglass, wincing at the bitterness but choking it down.

"Princess, are the accommodations to your liking?" Elias asked, earnestly. "We hope you are comfortable during your stay…"

"Yeah, any troubles with _Hansy,_ here?" Christian interceded, just as intoxicated as his identical twin brother, Tomas, beside him. "Cause we know how to take care of him if there are any problems," he added, helpfully. Anna giggled a bit, glancing at Hans and taking in his uncomfortable, nervous squirming.

"No, thank you, but Hans has been nothing short of accommodating and hospitable during my stay." Hans reached forward for his cup again, bringing it to his lips and tipping it back, finishing off the wine quickly. His nerves where jangling, his right leg bouncing up and down anxiously. He just hoped they could get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible. His regret for bringing Anna to dinner was endless at this point.

"Tell us about Arendelle, won't you Princess Anna?" Frederick inquired, politely. Anna's face lit up, finally something she could jabber about. "I've only read about it, never visited, myself."

"Oh, it's _wonderful_," she gushed, clasping her hands together, excitedly. "I'd say it's the best place in the world…n-not that The Southern Isles isn't the best place in the world, it-it's just that I guess I am a little bit biased…" she rambled, then paused, took a deep breath. "But it's beautiful, and the people are amazing. Elsa and I just love it," she concluded.

"Oh yes, Queen _Elsa_…" Sedak acknowledged darkly from his corner of the table, pushing his food around his plate and hiding behind his hard, scraggly hair. "What is it like to have a sister with ice powers?" Anna's face fell a bit; she hadn't realized that word of her sisters capabilities had reached so far, but then again with the Arendelle fiasco a few months ago, it was sure to be the biggest news in the Isle Kingdoms.

"Um…it's _interesting_, that's for sure," Anna said uncomfortably, trying to downplay the severity of it. Hans refilled his wineglass, already feeling a bit dizzy from the first.

"Must have been a terrifying situation, almost _destroying_ her own kingdom," Elias said cryptically from the head of the table, his eyes burning into Hans as he spoke. "Why don't you tell us how that all happened? I'm sure everyone here would love to hear the story of how you and Hans met…I hear you two were briefly engaged, is that right?" Hans choked on his wine, trying his best to conceal a coughing fit but failing miserably. Anna turned towards him, worry in her eyes.

"Oh, my goodness…A-are you alright?" she asked, patting his back.

"_Fine_," Hans coughed out, still hacking quietly. He regained his composure and took a few deep breaths. "Surely we can talk about something less intrusive tonight, can we not?" he suggested.

"Oh, how silly of me, of course," Elias smiled wryly, his tone harboring a lack of sincerity that only Hans could pick up on. "I am sure we will all get to hear about it at your trail in a few weeks."

"W-weeks?" Hans said, his face whitening. "So…you, uh… you have selected a date, then?" Hans snatched up his fork, picking at his food nervously. He'd suddenly lost any appetite that he'd had before. He glanced up at Elias' dark smile and couldn't help but notice the pure, sheer enjoyment Elias was getting out of his torment.

"I have," Elias said coldly, clearing his throat and cradling his wine glass in his long fingers. "It will be in a four weeks, after Queen Elsa arrives, of course." Hans accidentally dropped his fork, crashing loudly upon his plate.

"Elsa is coming!?" Anna and Hans both said in unison, but in entirely different tones. Anna lit up instantly. Hans, on the other hand, felt his heart skip a beat, his stomach dropping at the mention of the ice queen's name. Elias smirked darkly, eyeing Hans from his seat.

"I sent word to Arendelle about Anna's illness and requested she come at once. I suspect she will be here in a matter of weeks." Elias took a bite of his roast beef, casually. He glanced back up at Hans who suddenly looked ill. "Is there a _problem_, Hans?"

"Uh, I-" Hans stammered. He suddenly felt a hand on his bouncing knee under the table, attempting to calm his jitters. He glanced over at Anna, who stared back at him sympathetically, her eyebrows melancholy but her smile comforting. In that _one_ look, he knew Anna was aware of what was happening, she was a witness to what his brothers _loved_ to do. He smiled faintly in return, took in a deep breath, feeling slightly more at ease. Without much thought, he grabbed a hold of her hand, and she gave it a gentle squeeze in response.

"Hans?" Elias repeated.

"No," Hans replied, never taking his eyes from Anna's. "No problem, your majesty," She nodded at Hans approvingly then turned, smiling out towards the rest of the table.

"Well, as excited as I am to see my sister, I really do hope you didn't worry her _too_ badly. She doesn't do well with anxiety," Anna said coolly. Her eyes narrowed at the King, her tone slightly antagonistic, however, a smile remained on her face. "I would hate to see The Southern Isles suffer the same fiasco Arendelle did…I would think with your mild weather year round, your people would be less…_prepared_…to endure such a harsh storm," she mused, taking a bite off of her plate innocently. "There are some areas in Arendelle that are _still_ being repaired," she added. Hans smirked, happy to see the King's smug face fall into a look of concern.

_ Bet he hadn't thought about that one._

"Well, I'm sure Hansy wouldn't mind trying to take care of it like last time," Isaak chimed, cruelly. Anna didn't smile anymore, as all she could do was picture that day, Hans with his arm outstretched, seconds away from ending Elsa's life.

_ All to impress these snarling jerks_.

She resisted the urge to shudder. She simply turned towards the grinning prince, whom was obviously amused with himself.

"Prince Isaak, that's an awful injury, may I ask how you acquired it?" Anna asked stoically, picking up her cup of water and taking a small sip. Isaak looked at Hans, then back at her. Anna stared at Isaak with a knowing gleam in her eye. He looked back down at his food, defeated.

"I fell," he murmured, picking up his fork and immersing himself in his food, quietly.

_ Well, that shut _him_ up._

"Hans, I am feeling quite tired, would you mind escorting me back to my bedroom chamber?" Anna announced, picking her napkin up off of her lap and tossing it upon the table. Hans glanced at her, slightly bewildered.

"Wh- uh… _now_?" he asked. Anna shot him a glance, one that spoke to volumes to him. _This is your way out. _"Uh, yeah. Okay," he agreed, hurrying to his feet and helping her to her own. She turned back towards the table, curtseying.

"Dinner was lovely," she said politely. "But if you will excuse me, I am afraid I feel ill," she said, although it was clear in her tone that she _wasn't_ just referring to her mystery ailment, but their behavior in general. She turned on a heel, marching out of the dining room. Hans, feeling brave and slightly tipsy, bowed to his brothers and grabbed the remaining bottle of wine off the table. He then followed after Anna quickly without looking back, leaving a bewildered and speechless group of royals in their wake.

* * *

><p>"If I could relive a memory over and over again, it would be watching Isaak's face when you asked him how he got that black eye," Hans laughed, slightly giddy from the wine, but also from watching Anna silence his brothers with her comebacks. They sat on the floor in front of a plush sofa in the crackling, flickering glow of the fireplace, back in the portrait room. Hans tipped the bottle of wine he'd stolen back, continuing to celebrate escaping the dastardly dinner.<p>

"With family like yours, who needs enemies," Anna chuckled, reaching for the bottle herself and taking a swig. She winced, almost gagging. "Ugh! That's awful. This wine is certainly not as tolerable as champagne," she noted, coughing. Hans shrugged, uncaringly.

"It still gets the job done, that's all that matters," he said, snagging it back and taking another drink. She laughed quietly to herself. Hans couldn't help but notice how close they were sitting next to each other; he scooted over, slightly, suddenly feeling flush.

"So, your brothers are always like that to you?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief. Hans turned to her, seriously.

"Anna, that was _nothing_. They are so much worse than that…what you observed was them on their best behavior, thinking they were getting one past you."

"Oh, no. I saw it. Frederick and Mathias were fine and the twins are _obnoxious_…but Sedak, Elias and Isaak? They are so…so…_ugh_!" she shuddered, her eyebrows angry.

"That bad, huh?" he smiled.

"I know Elias only sent for Elsa to hurt _you_," she said quietly. "But in turn, he only hurt _her_. Whether I am ill or not, I fear he worried her terribly, which was _completely_ unnecessary." Hans propped his head up with his hand, leaning against the seat cushions of the sofa. He stared at Anna, the way she seemed to glow in the firelight.

"How are you feeling, anyways?" he asked lowly. She shrugged.

"Still pretty weak; it comes and goes. Sometimes I feel like I might be well, then I feel like I could sleep for days." She leaned back, stretched.

"Do you want me to take you back to your room, now?" he suggested. "You look pretty tired." She shook her head.

"No, I'm not ready to go to bed yet," she said through a yawn, leaning her head down on his shoulder, which surprised him. He let it rest there, took another drink off the bottle of wine. They sat in silence for a few moments, the raging flames popping and cracking in the fireplace as they watched the fire dance. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the warm fire, but Hans was pretty sure it was the weight of her head on her shoulder that made this moment feel…_good_.

"Anna?" he said.

"Hmm?" she replied.

"Thank you." Anna lifted her head, looking at him carefully.

"For?" she asked, but she already knew what he was going to say.

"For…for having my back tonight. You didn't have to do that, but I'm thankful that you did," he said, sheepishly. "I've never really had that, before. Not since…well… since my mother." Anna smiled weakly.

"I guess that's what friends are for," she said, nonchalantly.

"Friends," Hans breathed, chuckling under his breath. "Is _that_ what we are?"

"It's better than the alternative," she shrugged.

"Lovers?" he blurted. He laughed, reddening as soon as he'd said it aloud. Anna tried her best to contain a smile at his response.

"_Enemies_," she corrected, shaking her head.

"Ah," he said, "I guess that _would_ be the proper alternative to _friends_." He turned his body towards her, Anna did the same. "And since we are friends," he began, his eyes studying her. She stared back at him, her stomach feeling this distinct and sudden flutter.

"Yeah?" she whispered. He reached up, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingertips grazing against her cheek carelessly as he pulled his hand back.

"I don't suspect you could tell me just what happened that night…in the barn…with your _now_-fiancé." Anna groaned, rolling her eyes and turning away from him.

"I already told you this; _nothing_ happened with him…" She glanced at him through the corner of her eye, a sly smile appearing. "Well, that night, at least," she coyly added. Hans ignored the obvious dig.

"See, I want to believe you, but that shopkeeper told me that you and he stayed the night there, so…I guess I can only make assumptions," he said, his tone remaining light but the subject matter remained important to him. If there was one thing that definitely still nagged at him about Arendelle, it was what happened that night. It was the catalyst for him turning his back on her, his sense of betrayal, and he wanted to put it to rest once and for all. Perhaps if he didn't have an entire bottle of wine swimming in his stomach, he wouldn't have had the courage to ask, but he did and he wanted to know. "Come on, Anna…if you don't clarify I will forever assume that you gave him your virtue that very night," he teased, nudging her. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropping, offended.

"Don't you _dare_," she growled. Hans shrugged and raised his eyebrows. "_Fine_," she hissed at him, placing her hand to her forehead, exasperatedly. She took a deep breath. "I'd been searching for Elsa all night when I fell into a creek and soaked my dress. If that tavern hadn't been there, I most assuredly would have perished a horrible death, I might add," she said passionately, but Hans was unmoved by her attempt to garner pity. "Anyways, I went in and bought some dry clothes and boots when this big, handsome mountain man walked in-"

"Ugh, you can spare me the corny details," he groaned, tipping back the wine bottle again. Anna smirked, amused with herself.

"_Anyways_, he didn't have enough money to purchase his supplies, but he knew where the storm was coming from and how to get there. Unfortunately, he offended the shopkeeper and got thrown out, but I watched him and his reindeer named Sven-"

"Reindeer named Sven?" Hans scoffed, interjecting.

"Yes," Anna responded, trying finish her story, "I saw them go into the stable-"

"He has a _reindeer_ named _Sven_?" Hans interrupted again. Clearly he found the situation laughable.

"What is so funny about that?" she asked flatly.

"It's…I don't know… it's a little weird," Hans said, shaking his head and laughing. "Was he raised by elves, too?"

"Trolls, actually," she corrected.

"What?"

"It's a long story. Anyways, let me finish! _You_ wanted to hear this!"

"Continue," he approved. "But eventually we are discussing the trolls."

"So, I purchased his supplies after I saw him go into the stable and I followed him. I went in and demanded he take me up the North Mountain. And that shopkeeper is _mistaken_, we were only in that barn for a few moments, _not_ all night," she clarified.

"Oh," Hans whispered.

"_See_? Maybe if you had just asked me before you left me on a floor to die we could have avoided that little misunderstanding," she laughed, snorting. Hans didn't laugh, he looked dazed, sorrowful even. "Isn't it great that we can laugh about this now?" she giggled, but she stopped when she realized Hans was still, his face unchanged. "Hans? You're not laughing," she added.

"I made a huge mistake," he said quietly. "I-I thought-" he stammered. All this time he'd truly felt slightly justified, and it was all for nothing.

"You thought wrong," Anna said curtly, sighing. "But, I guess that's all in the past. Nothing happened that night and my virtue remains in tact, thank you very much," she added huffily. Hans cocked at eyebrow, looking at her sideways.

"Is that _so?_" he grinned. She reddened instantly, deeply embarrassed for the unintentional confession.

"Y-why-uh…Kristoff and my virtue are _none_ of your business, anyway!" she jabbered, completely flustered. Hans laughed.

"You're right, I apologize," he said, his tone less than sincere. "He's a lucky man," he added, after a moment. That time it _was_ sincere, although he even surprised himself that it actually had escaped his lips. Anna took in a sharp breath, looking right at him.

"Well, you could've been a lucky man, too," she blurted, instantly regretting it. Hans went to speak, but closed his mouth instead. That one stung. Anna grabbed the bottle of wine and finishing off the last of it, wincing once more. She set the bottle down, staring into the flames, as if mesmerized. "He's not my fiancé," she said quietly. Hans glanced at her.

"What?"

"He asked," she said, a slight melancholy in her tone. She turned to him, her eyes full of sadness as she spoke. "But…I didn't give him an answer."

"What did you say? What did you do?" he asked, his eyes wide. She shook her head, shaking away the beginnings of tears.

"I…I…" she stammered, trying to find the right words. Hans sat his hand upon hers, softly. She glanced down at his hand on hers, swallowing hard. She looked at his waiting face. "I came here," she admitted.

"Why?" he asked, hanging on to some kind of strange hope that he didn't even realize he had. "Unfinished business?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Can I just… say something crazy?" Hans asked, staring deeply into her eyes. Anna felt her lips curl into a small, weak smile. She could hear her heat drumming in her chest.

"You know I love crazy," she responded, her voice tired.

"I kind of want to kiss you right now," Hans said, his face serious once more. He didn't even know where it came from. She laughed, pulling her hand back from underneath his.

"You've had too much wine," she suggested lightly, brushing off his advances. He smiled back, leaning his head back upon the sofa.

"You're probably right," he admitted, turning towards her once more. "I've had more than my fair share of wine tonight. But…" He reached up, taking Anna's face with his hand and gently turning it back towards him, "I assure you, before your stay is over here, I **will** give you that kiss I denied you in Arendelle," he guaranteed, his voice determined. Anna's heart skipped a beat, her breathing shallow as she stared into his intense, green eyes.

"I think… I'm ready to go to bed now," she said, almost inaudible. She stood on shaky, weak legs, helping Hans to his own feet. He wobbled a bit, the wine rushing straight to his head. He leaned on her slightly for support. "Ouch!" she yelped as he accidentally stepped on her foot.

"I'm sorry," he slurred. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay," she assured, watching him have a hard time finding his footing. "Here, sit," she commanded, leading him towards the wheelchair. She chuckled to herself as he fell back into the chair clumsily. "Jeeze, I thought _you_ were supposed to be taking care of _me_," she laughed, rolling her eyes. She got behind him, using what was left of her strength to push him forward, grunting. "Hans?" she asked, realizing he was slumped over, almost completely passed out. "Hans, where is your room?" she asked, trying to shake him awake. An indistinguishable moan was his only response. She sighed, blowing a stray strand of hair from out of her face. "Okay…I guess we're having a slumber party," she said to herself, wheeling him out into the hallway.

* * *

><p>Hans awoke, his head throbbing. His stomach growled, unsettled. He finally opened his eyes, his face down in a flurry of pillows. He groaned, realizing that the covers he was immersed in were not his own, but they were very familiar. He lifted his head to see a mess of strawberry blonde hair beside him, his arm carelessly draped across the mound that was dangerously close to him. He glanced down, relieved to see that both he and Anna were fully clothed, nestled under the covers.<p>

Hans couldn't remember much of the night before, just that he'd overdone it with the wine, and that they'd shared a moment or two in front of a roaring fire. He reached over, lifting her mass of hair from her face, studying her peaceful expression. He looked at the gentle curve of her lips, her lips that smirked, even when as she slept. He felt a small smile creep upon his face then slowly fade as he realized that there was a good chance that this was the only time he would ever wake up beside her. That would have been a thought that didn't bother him too badly before, especially before last night. But now, something about that thought made him feel a sad sense of longing.

Hans slipped out of the bed, trying his best not to disturb the sleeping princess. He was grateful that she took care of him last night, but realized that it wouldn't be the best idea to be caught sleeping in Anna's chamber with her. He stood, taking a one more lingering moment to watch her sleep. He noticed his jacket, draped upon a sitting chair. He picked it up and made his way silently out of the bedroom.


	14. Inconvenient Feelings

**Chapter 13:**

_Inconvenient Feelings_

* * *

><p>The next couple of days, Hans did all that he could to avoid Anna.<p>

Fragments of their late-night, fire-lit conversation came back to him, little by little at first, and then all at once. He didn't _like_ what he remembered about the wine-induced conversation with the beautiful princess. He still served her, of course, as his punishment required, but he had made it a point to be nothing but short and civil in their interactions since that night.

Her fever returned, and Anna was bedridden for the following few days after that late night, which in turn made it even easier for Hans to evade her. Most of her time was spent either sleeping or reading, and although she was desperate for any human contact, social interactions with the prince often left her fatigued. He would usually just slip out of the room unnoticed after she had dozed off.

They hadn't talked about that night, either. Not really. Anna had attempted, _once_, but Hans shot her down quickly.

"You don't remember _anything_ you said to me?" she had inquired, her arms folded and her face somewhat hopeful. "Or how you ended up in my bed?" she added, an eyebrow cocked. Hans reddened, averted his eyes, and shook his head. He began focusing on the food he was bringing to her on the tray, carefully balancing it on his arm.

"Nope, sorry. It's all a blur," he lied, hoping she'd just drop it already.

"Not even when you said you wanted to ki-" she was interrupted by a spoon in her mouth or his frequent changing of the subject enough times in that one instance that she eventually caught on that it wasn't something he wanted to discuss further.

So, she left it alone.

In reality, Hans remembered much more than he let on…the conversation about what really had happened with Kristoff, the fact that they weren't _actually_ engaged…he even remembered telling her he wanted to kiss her- a memory he cringed at, in retrospect. How _embarrassing_ that he'd let that one slip, no matter how true it was in that moment.

But it wasn't just Anna that Hans avoided. He barely talked to Marguerite, and certainly did not discuss the matter of Anna with her. He simply withdrew, trying to figure out just what it was he was feeling about Anna, more so about what he felt the following morning, her hair disheveled and her soft snoring. He couldn't help but wonder what life would have been like had he just followed his heart in the first place, back in Arendelle, instead of letting power get the best of him.

So, today was his weekly meeting with Dr. Svedsen, and Hans was less that thrilled to be sitting on the sofa across from the old man as he wrote down a few notes, arranged his papers, then rearranged them once more. Hans sighed loudly, crossing his arms and shifting in his seat.

"Something the matter, Prince Hans?" Dr. Svedsen asked, his tone clinical and routine. Hans opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. Yes? No? He had no idea _what_ it was he was feeling, so how was he supposed to tell Svedsen one way or the other? "You seem impatient. Do you have somewhere you need to be?" Svedsen added.

"Well, it's going to be lunchtime soon, I'll need to take Anna her meal," Hans responded evenly. Dr. Svedsen nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"_Ah_, yes. I'm to understand you are serving the princess while she stays here. So, does that mean that your attempt to gain her forgiveness like I instructed you was a success?" Hans scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Not necessarily, your little homework got me locked in the dungeon for a night," Hans spat, still somewhat bitter about the whole thing. A mildly amused smile crept across the doctor's face.

"So, you decided that it was worth the risk, then," he noted aloud. Hans, again, went to speak but remained silent, shrugging his shoulders as if he couldn't care less. "Why was that, you think?"

"She was sick, possibly dying," he said flatly. "I wasn't sure I was going to get another chance." Dr. Svedsen wrote down a note or two, before looking back at Hans. Hans would love to know what those papers said, whether they painted him up as a monster or not. Whether they claimed he was insane or ill, not that he felt it truly mattered.

"How are your interactions with the princess?" Dr. Svedsen asked, leaning back and settling into his chair, comfortably.

"Fine," Hans said, shortly.

"Can you elaborate?"

"To be honest, it's not something I want to talk about," Hans finally said, his anxiety beginning to creep up on him again.

"Any why is that?" Hans knew that the doctor was only asking all of these questions because it was his job, but he felt himself getting more and more irritated, nonetheless.

"Because I _don't_, okay?" he spat, running his hand over his face.

"Fascinating. It seems like Anna and the occurrence in Arendelle were all you wanted to talk about in your past sessions," Svedsen reminded him. Hans didn't respond. "Then, can we talk about how you received that injury?" Dr. Svedsen said, noticing Hans' still-wrapped hand. Hans pulled his hand away from his mouth and glanced at it, sighing a bit. He did not want to explain this one, _either_.

"I got into a little fight with Isaak; it was nothing," he said dismissingly. Dr. Svedsen shook his head, he was not buying it.

"I'm sorry, but any altercations you're in at this time aren't _nothing_. I need to know what happened, Hans, so we can get to the root of this anger you seem to be harboring. It's the only way you're going to get better."

"Am I really _that_ bad?" Hans groaned.

"You're not well," the doctor conceded. Hans swallowed, hard, looking away from Svedsen and at the tree outside, gently bending in the wind. "Is there anything you do want to talk about, Master Westergaard?" he asked.

"What's the point," Hans muttered in a genteel tone, continuing to stare out the window. "Elsa will be here in a few weeks to seal my fate and Anna will be headed back to Arendelle to marry Kristoff," he lamented. He found these feelings that plagued him just as inconvenient as they had been in Arendelle, but clearly they were there for a reason. He glanced at the doctor who simply stared back at him receptively. "This is all for nothing, isn't it? I'm going to end up in a labor yard regardless, right?" Dr. Svedsen sighed, picking up his papers and shuffling them a bit, setting them back down.

"I can't say for sure what will become of you, Hans." Hans exhaled, closing his eyes. Why was it that nothing ever came easily for him? One would think that after being born of privilege he would at least get to bask in the perks once in a while. It was no secret to Hans, however, that most of his problems were not only self-made but also self-perpetuated. How simple others made it seem, to express their feelings and sort through them without a second thought; meanwhile he remained plagued by his own second guessing and self-doubts, enough to drive him mad.

_ Perhaps I really _am_ mad_.

* * *

><p><strong> At Sea - <em>Elsa and Kristoff<em>  
><strong>

A brooding, turbulent storm loomed overtop the boat; Elsa just prayed she could keep her wits about her long enough to safely get to Arendelle. It was her storm, one she was having a hard time controlling as the voyage moved on.

She paced her bedroom quarters, peeking outside through her large cabin window over and over again, nervously. It wasn't just getting to her sick sister that was making her anxious; soon, she would be in The Southern Isles, forced to come face to face with the family responsible for creating the monster that nearly ended her life and the life of her sister.

It made her fume, it made her angry, it made her sad. She was sad because since it had happened, she had spent such a little amount of time ever processing just _what_ had happened during the Great Freeze. Now, and ever since Anna left, she'd been made to reflect on those events over and over again.

_ Alone._

She ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

_ Get it together, Elsa. Conceal. Don't feel._

These mantras had never worked before, she knew they wouldn't now. There was a reason these words never worked before; Elsa had deduced that the overall advice her father had drilled into her head hadn't been the most _healthy_ in regards to dealing with trauma. But what could she do about it? It wasn't as if she had any close friends or Anna to talk about these things right now. The ship rocked gently back and forth, her stomach in knots. She heard a gentle rapping at her cabin door.

"El- I mean…Queen Elsa?" she heard, muffled from the other side.

"Yes, come in," she called back, turning towards the door. It creaked open, Kristoff poking his head in.

"Your majesty, I was just told that we are making excellent time; we may be there in as early as a week," Kristoff announced. Elsa nodded in a bit of a daze.

"Yes, okay. Thank you," she said back, somewhat detached. Kristoff had a hard time identifying if this was good news or bad by her complacent reaction. He took a step in, bringing his hat off his head and wringing it in his hand, something he always found himself doing in the presence of the intimidating beautiful ice queen.

"Your majesty," he began. She turned towards him, her face softening.

"Please, Kristoff, you're practically family at this point, you may just call me Elsa," she said, sighing, as if she'd told him this many times before. He nodded.

'O-okay…Elsa," he said, the name rolling off his tongue awkwardly, nervously. He cleared his throat and collected himself. "May I ask if you're okay? You seem upset…" he said, looking out the window at the looming cloud overhead.

"Oh, you noticed?" she teased. "I am fine, Kristoff," she added, her smile fading. She turned her back towards him, holding herself tightly in a form of self-soothing.

"Well, I'm sure you doing better than me," he said cryptically. "I'm feeling quite nervous about this whole thing," he confessed. She turned back towards him, her eyebrows sympathetic.

"Kristoff, I'm sure everything is going to be alright. Anna is tough, she's just got to make it through," she said determinedly. Kristoff chuckled.

"It's not that I'm worried about," he said. "Anna is a testament to internal strength and bravery…"

"Well…what is it?" Elsa asked, nearing him. Kristoff was surprised he was even saying these words aloud, let alone having this conversation with the queen, of all people. Anna's sister.

"I just…I never felt like she was ever mine, you know?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," Elsa admitted. "But I will try to understand," she added, hopefully.

"I mean, she was determined to get back to Arendelle and kiss Hans. She really believed that was her true love, even after my feeling for her had began to develop. I think…I think I was an afterthought. And I thought that would get better, eventually. But never once has she ever spoken to me or of me the way she spoke of Hans that night we were heading up the North Mountain to find you," he confessed, painfully. "What if she says no?"

"I- uh," Elsa began, before realizing that sad truth. There was a very real possibility that every fear Kristoff had just expressed to her was capable of coming true, and that by the time they got to The Southern Isles they'd be too late to stop Anna from having fallen in love with the evil prince again.

And it wasn't until _this_ moment that Elsa realized that she feared _that_ even _more_ than her sister dying.

* * *

><p>Hans pushed another food cart, as usual, towards the princess' chamber. Although he'd been more distant lately, he still couldn't shake off the fact that he'd come to enjoy his time with her. The real bittersweet part, however, was how short-lived it would be, hence why he'd made some huge strides to build an impenetratable barrier.<p>

He rounded the corner just in time to see Isaak, his hand upon the door knob, about to enter Anna's room.

"Hey!" he shouted, abandoning his cart and running towards him. The door was barely unlatched as Hans threw himself in front of it, knocking it shut and standing between his startled brother and the door. "You do not have permission to go in there. What do you _want_," Hans seethed through gritted teeth. Isaak's eyes narrowed, he took a step back.

"_My_ business the princess is of no concern to you, little brother," Isaak spat, huffily. "But if you must know, I was here to offer my company. I fear she may die of boredom with you as her only companion during her stay," he added, beginning to push past the prince to enter. Hans shoved Isaak back once more, his heart rate quickening.

"She doesn't _need_ your company, Isaak. I _know_ what you're doing here."

"And what is that?"

"You're trying to get a rise out of me, get under my skin." Isaak took another step back, adjusting the lapels of his jacket, smoothing out his hair. He smirked back at his little brother, wryly.

"It seems to be working," he observed. He was right. The mere idea of Isaak even attempting to canoodle with Anna made Hans fume with jealousy and irritation, although he wasn't sure if it was that Anna may actually end up liking his horrible brother, or merely the fact that Hans just hated his brother trying to lay claim to anything that was his. Or…had been his at one point.

"She isn't a pawn, Isaak! This isn't a game." Hans couldn't help but feel protective of her, even territorial. "_Don't_ let me catch you sniffing around this door again, or so help me God I have no problem breaking my hand again," Hans threatened. Isaak snickered, turning away wordlessly and ambling back the way he presumably came.

Hans took a deep breath, trying to let the irritation he was feeling fade away before going in and seeing Anna. It was bad enough he'd been so different towards her since the night in the portrait room, but now, being as frustrated as he was, Hans needed to keep his emotions at bay. He took a deep, mind-clearing breath, patiently went to retrieve his food cart, and walked into the princess' room.

"_Hey_!" Hans exclaimed upon entering Anna's room just in time to find her pulling herself into the wheelchair, weakly. She grunted, her face flushed and she appeared to glisten with a thin layer of sweat. "What are you _doing_?" Hans asked, startled. He once again abandoned the cart and hurried to her side and helped her adjust into the chair.

"I'm bored," she panted, her voice whining. "I need to get out of this room." She looked over towards the huge windows, gesturing towards them. "And, it's snowing, I-I was trying to go outside and see the snow." Hans glanced up; sure enough, there were miniscule, faint snowflakes fluttering around in the air. He rolled his eyes.

"And how did you think you were going to accomplish _that_? You don't even have enough strength to get yourself from your bed to a wheelchair, let alone roll yourself down those corridors and outside," Hans pointed out. Anna folded her arms across her chest defiantly.

"I could do it; desperate times call for desperate measures," she pouted.

"And what did you expect you'd do when you reached the first set of stairs, _hmm_?" Hans inquired, beginning to push her and her chair back towards the bed. She turned in her chair, her fingers gripping onto his jacket, her eyes pleading.

"_Please_, j-just… take me _outside_. I need the fresh air, I need to feel the cold wind on my cheeks," she whined, dramatically. "I am _begging_ you." Hans stared at her, irritated. She stared back, desperately. He sighed in resignation.

"You would think after freezing to death once you'd prefer to stay warm… _and_ indoors," he muttered, turning her chair around. She exhaled in relief.

"Well, after getting locked in a library, I get a little uneasy being shut in a room for long periods of time," she lightly teased. She watched Hans walk with purpose towards a chest in the corner of the room, rummaging inside to fetch a blue cloak. He threw it towards Anna and she narrowly avoided it colliding with her face as she caught it. She glowered at Hans.

"Okay, _what_ is your _problem_?" she snapped. Her eyebrows were pulled together in a frown, her face hard.

"_Nothing_," he spat, his back to her as he fumbled through the linens for a blanket to drape over her as well.

"It's not _nothing_, you've been like this for days now!" she declared, her voice raising passionately. "Things were getting better, but now you're just as closed off and distant as the day I got here! I thought-"

"You thought _what_, Anna?" he hissed, turning towards her, his eyes narrowed and cold. "That you'd figure me out by now? That you would understand why I did a terrible thing to you and your sister and that you could just forgive me and we'd be best friends?" he spouted off, angrily. Anna stared at him in disbelief, completely taken aback by his sudden outburst.

"Is this about the other night?" Anna asked, her voice quiet. Han groaned, loudly.

"It's not about _anything_!" Hans shouted, running an irritated hand through his hair. "Don't you get it? I don't _want_ to be your friend, Anna. I don't want to be your confidant; I should have taken the ship to the Corona Mines, because I certainly don't want to be your servant."

"_Why_ are you pushing me away? What did I do?" Anna asked, her eyes beginning to brim with hot, frustrated tears. She shook them away quickly.

"_That_ is your problem, Anna. I tried to kill your sister and take your kingdom. I left you for _dead_, and yet you're asking me what _you've_ done wrong," he said, his pulse slowing as kneeled down beside her. "You don't need to try to gain my approval or make things right with me, what I have done in the past is inexcusable and I am not worth your time or energy to try to understand."

"You're wrong," Anna choked. "You _are_ worth it," she said comfortingly; the coddling only seemed to irritate Hans even more.

"_And stop doing that_!" he snipped. "Quit trying to make me feel better! It doesn't. It just makes me feel worse. Don't you realize that the more I get to know you," he began, leaning back down in front of her and taking her hand in his, staring into her eyes, his own beginning to fill with frustrated tears. "You and your optimism, a-and your _goodness_, and the way you look at me…" He studied her sweet, sympathetic look on her face. "_Just_ like you're looking at me right now; don't you realize that it only makes me realize what an awful thing I did to you? That even if I live a million years, I can never truly make up for what I did-"

"Hans, that's _enough_," Anna said sternly. He bowed his head, she reached down and pulled it back up, staring back at him intensely. She sighed, a look of reminiscence on her face. "Look, I am not an expert on these things, certainly not a love expert…but when I was out looking for Elsa, I met some," she waited for Hans to have something to interject with, instead he simply stared back at her, listening to her every word patiently. "They said this: People make bad choices if they're mad, or scared, or stressed. Throw a little love their way and you'll bring out their best."

"I don't under-"

"I didn't get it, not _really_. Not until…"

"Until what?" he asked, his eyes hopeful. She smiled a bit, shrugging once shoulder, sheepishly.

"Until I came back here. I guess that's why I never answered Kristoff, why I had to come back here and see you one more time. Something about you called to me, even if it just to be your friend," she said. Hans felt a twinge of pain in that sentence, although up until this point he wasn't even aware that he perhaps wanted something more from her. "I figured…the love between Elsa and I thawed my heart…perhaps I could come out here and thaw yours, before it's too late."

"Anna, I…" he choked a bit. He chuckled, unsure what to say to that. "I don't really know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, just… quit beating yourself up, it does no good," she insisted. "You did an awful thing, in Arendelle. But you're not an awful person, I know it-"

"You don't know it. I-" he interrupted, weakly. He paused, shaking his head. "I am not a good person, Anna. I wasn't bred that way, I wasn't raised that way."

"But you _are_, Hans. Although you lost your way, you're _not_ awful. Not the man you were when you took care of Arendelle in our absence, not the man that went up the North Mountain looking for me, not even the man that wanted approval from his father and brothers _so_ badly he would kill for it…I guess I could even understand that," she whispered.

Anna bit her lip, gazing down at the forlorn look of sadness in Hans' face. She gently placed a hand on his cheek, wishing she could rid him of his angst and self-doubt. He looked upward at her once more, carefully placing his gloved hand over hers. He closed his eyes and softly leaned in on her hand, then turned and placed a small, innocent kiss upon it. Anna felt a chill wash over her from that simple gesture.

"Please, stop being so kind to me," he plead, his voice a whisper. It wasn't until that moment that she realized that he was crying. She ran her thumb across his cheek, wiping away the single tear that had escaped. She leaned down, softly and carefully placing a kiss on the prince's forehead.

"I forgive you," she whispered. "So forgive yourself."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN HAPPY HALLOWEEN! My gift to you: A new chapter of The Torn Prince. Huzzah, I know you're all so excited. **_

_**So, why don't you leave me a treat? Read and review! Have a safe and wonderful holiday.**_


	15. Falling Slowly

**Chapter 14: **

_Falling Slowly_

* * *

><p>"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" Marguerite exclaimed as Hans entered the kitchen. There was a spring in his step, a light in his eyes. But most peculiar of all was the genuine smile on his usually morose face. He stepped towards Marguerite, stopping to plant a loving kiss upon her head before turning to put on his apron.<p>

"Good morning, Marguerite," he chimed.

"What's gotten into _you_?" she mused, puzzled enough to stop stirring the contents of her bowl. "Are you feeling alright, Hansy?" Hans tried hard to suppress his smile, but was failing miserably.

"_What_?" he asked, "can't a guy be in a good mood around here without it being suspicious?"

"Not when the said _guy_ is Hans Westergaard, Prince of Despair!" he heard a familiar voice ring, dramatically. It wasn't until then that he noticed his brother, Edvard, rolling dough towards the back of the kitchen. He turned towards Hans, dusting his hands on his apron.

"Get sentenced to kitchen duty as well, Edvard?" Hans teased. In all his time working with Marguerite, he'd never seen any of his brothers utilize the royal kitchen.

"I am afraid that is a privilege only allotted to you, dear Hans. I am simply in here making bread to pass out to the poor and downtrodden; you should try it sometime," he suggested, earnestly.

"Perhaps I will," Hans agreed, taking out a large kitchen knife and beginning to peel potatoes.

"You never answered me," Marguerite scolded. "What has got you so _happy_ today, Master Hans?" she asked curiously. He glanced at her and gave her a quick wink, her eyes widening. "I bet it has something to do with Princess Anna," she gasped aloud.

"Ha! Of course it does," Edvard cackled. "Only women or wine can make a fool smile like this. And I do believe it's too early for you to have had a drop to drink," he said, eyeing his brother skeptically. Hans shrugged.

"I just…I have a feeling things are going to be alright," Hans said cryptically. He thought about telling them that Anna had forgiven him, he thought about boring them with the details of how they'd spent valuable time together. About how the butterflies he'd felt in his stomach the night he met her in Arendelle had never left, but now they were stronger than ever.

He _wanted_ to tell them these things. But, in a lot of ways he wanted to keep these special and few moments to himself a little longer.

"Prince Hans," a deep voice bellowed from the entryway to the kitchen. Hans, Edvard and Marguerite all looked up, startled. A uniformed guard stood before them at attention. "His Majesty, King Elias, has requested your presence," he continued, stoically. Hans sighed, trying not to feel the irritation creep up.

"But, I just got here," he complained, hunched over a wastebasket with a half-peeled potato in his hand, a knife in the other. The guard did not respond, simply stared at the reluctant prince. "_Fine_," Hans resigned, setting down his contents and pulling his apron back off of him. Marguerite and Edvard looked after Hans, curiously.

"Good luck," Marguerite muttered after him, going back to her work.

Hans followed after the guard quickly, hoping he could return back to his duties and finish them up early as to get in more time with Princess Anna today. Instead of the throne room that Elias usually saw Hans in, the guard led him to the king's study before resuming his position at the door and gesturing with one gloved hand for Hans to enter.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn, Elias working on his decrees and documents by lantern light. He didn't even look up at his brother before he began speaking.

"I have received word that Elsa is to arrive early; a storm has dutifully provided enough wind to aid her ship in making record time from Arendelle," he said, his voice hard. Hans couldn't help but assume that Elsa's powers may have had something to do with the said storm, but he kept that to himself. He had, however, noticed the winter winds had been unseasonably cooler than usual; the Southern Isles hardly ever got a white winter, and currently the lands were blanketed in at least a few inches of fresh powder. "We are going to prepare a ball to welcome her arrival," he announced, finally looking up at his littlest brother.

"A _ball_?" Hans asked flatly, standing up tall and poised in front of the king in his royal study. Although he maintained the appearance of being calm and together, he was wringing his hands together nervously, clasped in front of him. It didn't matter how many times he'd stood before his brother, he never felt at ease under his glaring eyes.

"A _gala_," Elias said, thumbing through papers with his grand, oak desk acting as a barrier between them. "I figured it would be a gesture of good faith, welcoming Queen Elsa to the Southern Isles. So we will need the servants to begin preparing at once, she is to arrive any day now."

"Are you sure that's a good _idea_? Last time I attended a party with the Queen she froze the kingdom," Hans droned, seriously.

"I am sure it will be fine, she has to have gotten better at controlling her powers by _now_," he insisted. Hans winced, shrugging a bit.

"I am not so sure about _that_, your majesty. Anna told me that she still struggles to control herself from time to time…" he expressed, concerned.

"Either way," Elias said curtly, "if she chooses that attending is too difficult, she is more than welcome to retire to her private chambers. If not, at least we have made the effort. Don't forget, _Hansy_, we still have a lot of damage to undo from your little visit to Arendelle. I expect this evening to go off without a hitch, do you understand me?" Hans wanted to respond with a smart comeback, but bit his tongue instead.

"I shall be on my best behavior," he submitted. The king glanced at him, his dark eyes almost black. An amused smile crossed his face.

"Don't be silly, you will not be in attendance," Elias scoffed. "The last thing Queen Elsa wants is an evening spent with her attempted murderer!" he added. Hans clenched his jaw.

"They why are you telling me at all?" he said through gritted teeth, trying to keep his cool. Elias stood, clearing his throat and ambling over towards the large bay window. He watched the snow come down in tiny flurries.

"You'll need to alert the servants and help plan the festivities."

"I am to put together a party that I am not even allowed to attend?" Hans deadpanned, but he already knew the answer. Elias turned back towards him, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

"Precisely," he sneered. He turned his back towards Hans once more, waving a cavalier hand. "You're dismissed."

* * *

><p>Hans wasn't going to let the conversation he'd just had with Elias get him down, over the last day he'd felt way too <em>good<em> for that. Sure, the trial was looming closer and closer as the days ticked by, and he wasn't any more respected by his brothers than he'd been his entire life, but one thing was for sure: Hans was feeling happy for the first time in…well, forever. So _what_ if he couldn't go to a party? He didn't like them all that much anyway.

Ever since Anna forgave him the day before, ever since he'd felt the pressure of her lips against his forehead, he'd felt a huge weight off of his shoulders. She really _had_ thawed a part of him that he didn't even know was frozen. He figured that if someone as good and wonderful as _Anna_ could like him, perhaps he wasn't as bad as he'd always been told he was.

The thing that surprised him the most, however, was that he had never realized until she forgave him just how much he _needed_ her forgiveness, how much it would mean to him to hear the words aloud. And in that moment, Hans made up his mind that he would never, _ever_ betray her again.

He quietly slinked into Anna's room, as to not awaken the princess. However, He was taken aback to see that she was already alert, sitting up in bed with her face immersed in yet another book. He leaned against the entryway of the alcove, watching the lovely princess from afar as her eyes quickly darted from side to side, drinking in the novel she was currently reading.

.

"Hey," Hans smiled, breaking Anna's concentration. She peered up over the book, her eyes brightening instantly as they fixated on his face. She lowered the book slowly, trying to control her ever-growing, shy smile.

"Hey," she responded, bashfully. "How are you doing?" she asked, trying to seem casual. Her heard was racing, however. Things didn't feel the same as before. She felt delightfully nervous in his presence once more, as it was before all of the mayhem had ensued.

"_Oh_, you know," he sang. He crossed the room, nearing her slowly, his hands in his pockets as he sauntered over towards her. "I'm feeling… _great_, actually," he submitted with a sly smile. She sat up, smoothing down her hair, and then the blankets. She scooted over a bit, gesturing towards the empty space beside her as an invitation for him to sit. He didn't hesitate before sitting on the edge of the bed, close to her. "And how are _you_ feeling today?" he asked, removing his glove and bringing his hand to her forehead, pressing his palm against her skin. She was warm, but not as hot as she'd been the last few days.

"Weak," she sighed, looking down sadly, closing her book. "It feels so restraining, you know? I feel like I am being held prisoner in my own body. There are so many things I'd rather be doing, but I get too exhausted," she groaned.

"Like what?" Hans asked, reaching out towards the bedside tray to hand her a cup of steeped tea. He stirred it, the gentle clinking of the spoon against the teacup filling the brief silence.

_ Two sugars. No cream. _

"_Lots_ of things!" she exclaimed after thinking about it for a moment. "Like exploring to town, meeting the people, going for a ride on one of the royal horses," she listed, dreamily. She glanced at him sideways. "Building a snowman…" she added. Hans studied her hopeful expression, wishing he could make those dreams a reality.

_ But she is too sick._

"Well, as soon as you get better, I will _personally_ take you to do each and every one of those things," he assured her, boldly reaching up and brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. He knew that it was brazen, him to touching her so casually. But then again, she wasn't _actually_ engaged. In fact, it would seem that he had gotten closer to walking down the aisle with Anna than _anyone_ had. He let his touch linger a moment and she smirked, crinkling her button nose and blushing a bit at his touch; she didn't suspect she'd _ever_ get used to the way his touch made her feel. She stared down at her cup of tea, still swirling from Hans stirring it before.

"I wish I was better _now_," she whimpered, her face distraught, as if she could cry at any moment. "I am just so frustrated. And the doctor won't tell me what's wrong with me," she choked, biting her lip nervously to keep from crying. She looked into his eyes. "Hans?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Do…_you_ know what's wrong with me? Have they told you?" she asked, apprehensively. Hans wished he could tell her otherwise, but the truth was even _he_ didn't know what was ailing the poor, weakened princess. He had tried over the last few days not to think about it. He'd assumed she would have gotten better by _now_, but it seemed as though she was only getting worse. He stared into her tired eyes, the one that always saw the glass half full and twinkled with excitement over things that most would find mundane…the ones that always saw the good in people, even him.

_ Especially me_.

"They…haven't told me," he said quietly, honestly. "But, I _did_ overhear Dr. Roahl talking to Elias the other day in front of your room. He wants to make sure you are eating. He is trying to get your strength up to help fight it…_whatever_ it is." Anna took in a sharp, staggered breath, resigning to the thought that she may not _ever_ get better. He read her thought like a book, even though she shook it away as soon as it came, and a single tear escaped from her eye. She wiped it away quickly. "_Hey_," he said sweetly, turning her petite body towards him, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You're _going_ to get better, I just _know_ it," he assured. She chuckled, but without humor, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I feel so silly, I'm just so tired of being sick," she expressed, bringing her knees up and resting her head upon them. Hans scooted even closer to her, wrapping one long arm around her and hugging her tiny frame close to him, nurturingly.

"_Shh_," he softly coaxed, leaning his cheek on the top of her bowed head. "You're going to be just fine." He waited for her to respond, but she simply continued to sulk in her blankets, in his embrace. A smile crept across his lips. "Plus, I just got some fantastic news," he baited. Slowly, she peeked up at him, her eyes big and full of curiosity.

"What?" she asked, still muffled in the blankets.

"Oh, never mind. You don't seem too excited about it, anyways," he teased, releasing her from his arms. Her head popped up.

"No, tell me! I want to know," she insisted, eagerly. Hans narrowed his eyes playfully.

"It's probably not of any interest to _you_, now that I think about it," he continued to jest. She hit him in the chest playfully with all of her strength, which wasn't much.

"Hans!" she giggled.

"_Sheesh_, what is it with you and all the hitting," he lamented.

"Tell me!" she demanded, glaring at him. He laughed to himself.

"Alright, _alright_. I'll tell you." He leaned in closely to her, as did she. "Turns out, we are having a ball this week," he finally divulged in almost a whisper. Anna's eyes widened, a large smile cracking across her face.

"A ball!?" she exclaimed, her hands clasped together over her heart. "_Here_?"

"I guess Elias wants to have it to welcome Elsa to The Southern Isles. He said she should be here any day, now," he informed. He knew that news of Elsa's arrival would cheer Anna but, but he couldn't help feeling a slight twinge of sadness as he realized that his days with her were numbered. She glanced at him, and in her eyes he saw she was thinking the same thing.

"A-any day now?" she mumbled. Hans nodded somberly, his head bowed. "It's going to be okay, you know," she said comfortingly, placing her small hand upon his, bringing his gaze up to meet hers with her other hand. "Elsa is a good person, a-and if I tell her how much has changed, she isn't going to-"

"It's alright, Anna. You don't have to try to make me feel better," he said, swallowing hard. "I am sure everything is going to be just fine." Anna smiled weakly.

"Would… you like to escort me to the ball?" she asked shyly. Hans opened his mouth to speak, to tell her he wasn't allowed to attend the ball. But she stared back at him hopefully, her huge eyes shining and her cheeks pink for having even gotten up the muster to ask him to do such a thing. He closed his mouth, wrapping his arm around her once more. They leaned back against the headboard, Anna cuddled up to his chest.

"I'd love to."

* * *

><p><strong> Elsa and Kristoff - At Sea <strong>

Although the captain maintained that they were making record time, Elsa felt like this voyage was taking forever.

Her nerves were raw, her body exhausted from constantly emitting off her power, although she was quite pleasantly surprised and relieved that she'd been able to contain it well enough to help them along without toppling the boat over with her ever-present storm.

She was nervous that Anna was once again being mislead; she'd been sure to insist that Hans go nowhere near the princess during her visit, a stipulation that Anna promised to enforce as soon as she got there. However, something about Anna's trusting and naïve nature made Elsa question whether her sister was actually capable of enforcing…well…_anything_.

Another pleasant surprise was how well Kristoff was at dominoes.

In the short few weeks they'd been at sea together, they'd gotten to know one another quite well. Elsa was glad to have the company, and their chats and games kept her mind from wandering too far into worry, as well as his. The most obvious thing they'd related to was their tumultuous relationship with ice.

_ Beautiful. Powerful. Dangerous. Cold. _

And, of course, their love for Anna.

"She's a _nut_," Kristoff laughed, listening to Elsa wrap up another insightful story about hers and Anna's childhood. This one entailed Anna insisting that the snow queen make them a snow fort, only to accidentally barricade themselves inside. While Elsa had panicked, in fear over her parents becoming angry at the girls for putting themselves into yet another dangerous predicament, Anna had grabbed a chunk of stray ice and began to tunnel her way out, more than likely saving herself and her terrified sister in the process.

"She's always been…plucky," Elsa chuckled, a look of love crossing her face. "I wish things could have been different, there are so few stories to share," she said, somewhat wistfully. "What about you? What was your childhood like? I'm sure it was a lot less frigid than ours," she insisted. Kristoff looked up, trying to recall a memory, before shaking his head.

"No, I'm pretty sure I dealt with just as much ice and snow as you girls did," he thought aloud. Elsa cocked one eyebrow. "Well, maybe not as much…but ice is my life! Ever since I can remember."

"What about your parents?" Elsa asked, becoming slightly concerned. It had never really crossed her mind that Kristoff was an orphan. Sure, she'd heard Anna speak cryptically of rock trolls and magic, but just chalked that up to Anna being…well…_Anna_.

"I don't really remember _much_ about them," he said, slightly becoming somber. Elsa's brows pressed together in a look of empathy.

"Surely you had parents at some point," she dissected. "You don't know what happened?"

"I remember…going out with my father one day to harvest ice. Sven and I got stuck behind; he wasn't the most attentive of fathers, you know?" She didn't, but she nodded as if she did. Her father was extremely attentive; he'd made his life all about Elsa and trying to help her contain her powers. "Anyway, we were trying to navigate our way home when we saw some royal horses gallop by us, a trail of…_ice_…" he paused, suddenly fragments of that night coming back to him, and suddenly realizing what he didn't understand he was witnessing that night, so young. His big eyes found hers, equally lost in thought.

"_Could_ it…" Elsa whispered, bringing her fingertips to her lips, remembering the night that she'd accidentally hit Anna with a blast of ice.

"No," Kristoff whispered in disbelief. "Maybe?" he asked.

"What did you see?" she asked. Kristoff thought back even harder, trying to piece the memories together.

"I remember…following them to a clearing…where I met Boulda and the rest of them…but they were helping a family. Two little girls…" he recalled in staggered sentences. Elsa let out an excited shriek.

"Oh my goodness, that was me!" she said excitedly. "I mean, that was _us_. Anna and I. I can't believe you were there that night, that you saw…" she trailed off. "I'm a little surprised you never put two and two together before, actually," she added. Kristoff smirked at the lovely Queen, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I never really thought much of it after that night; being raised around magical trolls and all kinds of mystical things like that… it all got blurred together, I guess."

"Well…I guess I can consider you an old friend, now," Elsa smiled. Kristoff liked the sound of that, and to be honest, he'd come to really, really like his time with Elsa. It seemed that they were both a welcome distraction from the murky future that still loomed in the distance.

* * *

><p>Hans blinked away the sleep from his eyes, realizing that he and Anna were still snuggled up together on her bed. He glanced down to see her silently snoozing upon his chest, and he couldn't help but smile to himself. He reached down and brushed her cheek with his thumb, letting the softness of her skin leave a lasting impression upon his own. She looked so peaceful, so serene.<p>

_ Beautiful_.

He hated to wake her, but when he looked out of her large windows beside the bed, he realized that night had fallen. They had successfully slept most of the day away, the dim and fading light of the fireplace the only source of light in the darkened room. He studied her features as he watched the flickering light dance upon her face.

He thought about everything that had happened over the last couple days, feeling a sense of inner peace for once in his life even though he knew so much was creeping just around the corner, waiting to burst his world right back open. For a moment, he wished he'd been smarter, kept the princess at a distance and never allowed himself to reconnect with her. It made his heart ache to know that in only a matter of days, he'd have to give her up all over again.

Then, it all hit him at once.

And _hard_.

In _this_ moment, watching her sleep soundly in his arms, feeling the pressure of her weight upon him, he decided that it was worth it. He realized that no matter now hard he'd tried to fight it, he was falling, and that the pain of having to lose her was worth knowing what it felt like to love someone.

This wasn't like before, in Arendelle; the stark infatuation that plagued and confused him. No, this was something _much_ different. This was a sense of belonging, a sense of hope and security. He felt like for once in his life he had a purpose, that he was made to love and protect this one person.

And it was now that he realized that this was what his father had wished of him, to find _this_ feeling that was beating around in his chest.

She began to stir, wriggling a bit. After a few moments, her eyes lightly fluttered open, her first instinct to glance up at her companion. She smiled, closing her eyes and burying her face in his chest, stretching.

"Have a nice nap?" he asked, she nodded.

"I did not mean to sleep so long," she insisted. She sat up, pulling her hair over a shoulder and beginning to braid it, trying to subdue the bedhead that had accumulated. Hans sat up, stretching as well. His back ached from how they had been intertwined on her bed, his neck stiff.

"Clearly we needed it," he brushed off. Anna wordlessly got up out of bed, walking towards the large windows, her nightgown trailing behind her. She continued to braid her hair, watching the snow come down softly upon the white-blanketed earth. Hans couldn't help but watch her, staring whimsically out the window. He stood as well, nearing her. The two stood in silence for a few moments, just watching the flakes fall. Anna turned her gaze towards him, her skin almost white in the moonlight. A thought crossed Hans' mind.

"I have an idea," he said softly. "But you're going to have to be really, _really_ quiet." Anna turned towards him, a look of confusion, yet still some intrigue crossing her delicate features.

"What is it?"

"It's a surprise. You're just gonna have to trust me," he insisted. She eyed him skeptically.

"Am I going to _like_ this surprise?" she asked.

"Would I suggest it otherwise?" Anna went to speak but Hans cupped his hand over her mouth. "Actually, don't answer that. Just-" his eyes darted around the room, fixating in on the cloak and blanket he'd fetched for her the day before. "Just put these on and come with me," he instructed, grabbing them and handing them to her. Anna did as she was told, pulling the cloak overtop her sheer nightgown, along with the large hood. Hans walked towards the closet, fetching another cloak, putting it on himself as well. He then grabbed the wheelchair, pushing it towards Anna. "Here. Sit."

"You're so bossy," she pointed out, backing up into the chair and sitting down. "Alright, let's see this surprise."

* * *

><p>They'd quietly and discreetly navigated the hallways of the castle, relieved to see that everyone was asleep. It had to be well past midnight, and the guards weren't too concerned with what the prince was up to, even with Anna in tow. The only noise was the soft whirring of the wheelchair as Hans pushed her down the corridors.<p>

"Where are we going?" Anna attempted to whisper, knowing full well that Hans was not about to tell her and ruin the surprise.

"_Shh_," Hans shushed, harshly. "What is it about being quiet that you are so incapable of?" he teased. They approached a set of stairs and Hans brought the wheelchair to a halt. He came around to the front of the chair, extending his hand out to the waiting and puzzled princess. "Come on, you're gonna have to walk from here. Think you are ready?" he asked, smugly.

"I was born ready," Anna responded, snarkily, taking his hand. Hans helped her down the stairs, continuing on towards a set of double doors. They approached them, Hans turning towards the princess.

"Are you bundled up?" he asked, reaching over and pulling her hood onto her head. She peeked at him amidst the wooled cloak, giving him a thumbs up that was concealed by her woven mittens. "Okay," he breathed, pushing the doors open and leading the two of them out into the cold, snow-covered courtyard.

One would have thought Anna had never seen snow in her life, the way her face lit up as they trudged through the fresh, untouched powder. Everything with dusted with a soft, pillowy layer of white, glistening like diamonds in the moonlight. Although it was dark, the snow seemed to glow around them, illuminating their path. Anna instinctively reached down, taking a heap of snow and catapulting it towards the sky, the dusting raining down upon them like confetti. She giggled, still trying to stay quiet as Hans brushed the stray flakes from his hair.

"Shh," he repeated, taking her hand once more and dragging her behind. He looked back at her, thoroughly enjoying herself but already becoming winded. A sudden thought occurred to him; the last thing he wanted to do was make the princess collapse once more from exhaustion. "Here," he said, stopping her and stepping in front of her, crouching down with his back towards her. "Hop on," he instructed.

"You're gonna piggyback me?" she said flatly. He glanced at her over his shoulder.

"You either hop on or we're going back inside," he commanded. A smile cracked clear from one side of her face to the other, as she did as she was instructed. She heaved herself up, clinging onto his back. Hans stood, hoisting her up higher and more secure, holding onto her legs and he carried on. Anna set her chin on his shoulder, her breath warm on his cheek.

"Where are we going?" she asked for the millionth time. Hans rolled his eyes.

"Don't you ever get tired of asking questions?" he complained. She snickered.

"Nope."

Hans carried her a ways, heading towards the stables. He glanced back at his footprints, stretching for some distance from the back of the castle towards them. He just hoped no one followed them, since it had already occurred to him that he was breaching his house arrest with every step that propelled him away from the castle doors.

They approached the barn, Hans setting her back to her feet lightly beside him. He wordlessly picked up the latch, opening the door and stepping inside, Anna following closely behind him.

The stable was well lit; dozens of lanterns were strung about, leaving them to bask in the gentle, golden light they emitted. The beautiful, grand horses hardly reacted to their presence, and Anna found herself stopping by each stall to greet each one.

"They're beautiful," she breathed, admiring each and every horse she happened upon. Hans watched her, happy to see a smile on her face, happy to see her outside of her bedroom, or even the castle walls in general.

"Which one is your favorite?" he asked, watching her pace the aisle, inspecting each one. She paused, nearing one.

"I remember _you_," she breathed, reaching up to press her now-ungloved hand upon Sitron's nose. He nuzzled her, but his eyes became excited when he saw Hans, his master, nearing him. Hans reached up, placing some much-needed affection upon his horse. "He's such a beautiful horse," she admired, gently petting him.

"I know. Such a shame he's been cooped up in here."

"Doesn't anyone ride him in your absence?" Anna asked, concerned. Hans shrugged a bit.

"Yes, of course. But I used to ride him all the time…and for much longer periods of time than he gets now," he said, sadly. Anna could tell that Hans truly connected with Sitron; she suddenly imagined him riding off on the horse, escaping the cruelty of his brothers, getting away from the hurt and the turmoil.

"Let's take him for a ride," Anna whispered, somewhat deviously. Hans' eyes grew, he shook his head.

"Oh, no… I mean, I would get-"

"You already snuck out. If you get caught you're already in for it. You might as well get some enjoyment out of it," she tempted. Hans clenched his jaw. There was almost nothing more he would rather do than take Sitron out for a moonlit ride in the snow, especially with Anna at his side. He heaved himself up onto Sitron without another thought, reaching his hand down towards Anna, who eyed him excitedly.

_ She had won._

She took his hand and he helped her up onto Sitron's back. She snuggled up to the prince, holding on tightly.

"Let's go," he smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**Hey…you know that little box below? **

**VVV this one? VVV**

**You should leave me a lil bit of love there. **

**Also, I should have the next one up by Saturday night. **

**XOXO**


	16. Doors Reopened

**Chapter 15:**

_Doors Reopened _

* * *

><p>The moon hung low in the mid-winter sky, the stars sprinkled out in all directions. The world around them was white, illuminated and glowing from the brightness of the moon. The earth was silent, aside from the crisp sound of Sitron's hooves cutting through the snow as they rode along. Anna pulled herself closer to Hans, gripping onto him as the chilly night air nipped at her cheeks and nose. Hans smiled as he felt her pressed up against his back. He glanced down to see her gloved hand clutched to the front of his navy blue riding cloak, and he gently placed his own upon hers.<p>

"Hyah!" he yelled, snapping the reigns, Sitron picking up the pace.

Sitron carried the two up the mountainous terrain, which was vastly different from Arendelle's. The Southern Isles were full of rolling hills, all gradually leading them up towards the mountains, unlike Arendelle that was full of sharp, jagged pieces of earth that jutted upwards and towards the sky. Instead of evergreens and pine trees, The Southern Isles were inhabited by huge, naked maple and oak trees, sticking out of the cold earth like skeletons, their twisted and knotted limbs covered with white, pristine snow.

Uncharacteristically, Anna was quiet for most of the ride. Hans didn't mind; it only made the moment that much more special to him. He liked that they could just _be_; they were simply two people sharing in something that didn't need words.

After some time, they finally reached the top of a hill, under a sprawling and snow-covered oak tree. Hans pulled on the reins, bringing Sitron to a halt. Without a word, he threw his leg up and over, hopping off and landing into the fresh powdery snow that went midway up his riding boots. He turned towards Anna, who still sat all bundled up on Sitron's back, and reached up, gently taking the princess into his hands and helping her down and off of the horse, slowly. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, both of them smiling shyly. Hans cleared his throat and looked away nervously.

"Thanks," Anna said quietly after her feet touched the ground. Hans didn't respond, simply turned her out towards the viewpoint. From the spot on the hill, they could see the whole kingdom, dimly but warmly lit, out in the distance under a star-filled sky. The view was incredible, even in the dark night. "_Wow_," Anna breathed. "It's so…_beautiful_." She was awestruck as she looked out onto the darkened horizon.

"This is my favorite place in the whole kingdom. Maybe even the whole _world_," Hans assured, glancing down at the astonished princess as she stared out into the distance. "_Especially_ now," he added quieter, although he hadn't intended on saying that part aloud. Anna broke her gaze outward to glance up at him, smiling weakly and pulling her cloak around her tightly, trying to warm up.

"You're as smooth as ever," she said, blushing. Hans looked out into the void, the rest of the world looking so small.

"I come up here a lot…to get my mind off things. Clear my head," he divulged.

"I can see why," Anna said, glancing up at him once more, her smirk growing into a toothy grin. "It's _amazing_ up here." Hans nodded in agreement before scaling his way down the other side of the hill a bit, where Anna noticed a small lake at the bottom, frozen over and glistening in the moonlight. She followed him carefully, trying not to slip. She watched as Hans neared the bank of the ice lake, stepping onto it's slick and glossy surface. He almost slipped, but regained his footing quickly, turning towards her and beaming at his own success.

"Come on," he coaxed, his smile bigger than ever as he extended his gloved hand out towards the princess. She eyed him skeptically.

"Are you…_sure_ it's safe?" she asked hesitantly, quietly wondering if he was just one wrong step away from crashing through the ice.

"_Trust_ me," he said. "I've done this _hundreds_ of times and I've only fallen through the ice _twice_," he stated, coolly, as if it were something to brag about. She hoped he was joking.

"Oh, well…_that' s_…comforting," Anna deadpanned. Hans chuckled and shook his hand impatiently towards the princess, beckoning her onward.

"Come _on_," he insisted in almost a whine. "It's safe, I _assure_ you."

"Oh, alright," Anna caved, although her voice was still laden with suspicion. She reached her hand timidly, _slowly_, towards his, and without warning Hans gripped onto hers tightly and pulled her into his arms, quickly. "_Whoa_!" she yelled. She'd slipped instantly, of course (as all of the time Hans had ever known Anna, she hadn't been all that graceful), but Hans was ready for her. His stance was concrete upon the slippery ice, his arms ready to catch her. He clutched her closely to his chest, protecting her from falling, her face a mere few inches away from his. She gulped, staring into his intense eyes. They were greener than she'd remembered. It was this moment that she was reminded just what it was about the charming prince that made her fall in love in the first place; his eyes were warm, his smile goofy but dashing all at the same time. She missed this man, the one that reminded her of the man who'd hit her with his horse. If she'd been completely honest with herself she would have noted that being swept up in his arms simply took her breath away.

"Hi," she choked out, her voice almost inaudible, as if she were discovering him all over again.

"Glad I caught you," he replied teasingly, remembering back to the night of the coronation. The familiar phrase made her stomach drop, but in the best of ways, the way that reminded her that she was alive and that this was really happening; something she'd imagined would _never_ happen after that cold day in Arendelle, when he'd confessed to her that it was all a lie. She tried not to think about _that_ day anymore, especially since she'd forgiven him, but she couldn't help but find little bits of that night creeping up on her, still. She smiled through the memory, regardless .

"You're ornery tonight," she observed, pushing herself away from his chest gently and attempting to find her own footing. She almost slipped again, Hans catching her once more, by the arm this time.

"Must be my company," he suggested wryly, helping her to her feet before turning and walking towards the middle of the lake.

"Hey, _wait_!" Anna turned as well, attempting to follow Hans, who seemed to have a good grasp on walking across the frozen lake. Anna, on the other hand, was having a difficult time scaling the slippery surface, _especially_ trying to catch up to Hans. Ultimately, Anna's clumsiness got the best of her, and in her haste one of her legs flew up in front of her, slamming the princess down hard on her tailbone upon the ice. "Ouch!" she yelled. "_Oh_, that hurt!" she sobbed, laughed, and whined all at the same time, turning onto her side and rubbing her lower back. Hans turned back quickly, watching in horror as Anna writhed in pain. He rushed over, sliding back to her. "_Ow, ow, ow_!"

"Anna! Are you alright?" he asked, worried, hovering above her. He was relieved to see that amidst the tears, she was _mostly_ laughing. "_Here_, let me help you," he offered, holding his hand out. She peered at him with a devious look in her eyes before she reached up and gripped onto his hand, pulling it as hard as she could, and sending the prince toppling down almost completely on top of her. "_Whoa_!" Hans yelled as he fell to his hands and knees, eyeing the princess coldly as she laughed even harder beside him. "That's not very _nice_, princess," he mock-scolded, dusting himself off. Discretely, Hans took a handful of snow and smashed it into her unsuspecting face, playfully.

"_Hey_!" Anna shrieked, quickly wiping away the cold wetness with her mittens; Hans laughed now, deep and heartily, collapsing upon the ice beside her. "You, sir, are _no_ gentleman," she gasped, still shaking off the snow. Hans couldn't contain himself.

"I wasn't aware I'd ever claimed to be one," he mused, finally calming and laying on his back, still trying to subdue his chuckles. He stretched out, putting his hands behind his head as he stared upwards at the plentiful and bright stars, suddenly feeling more alive and at peace than he'd felt in all his years. Anna lay beside him, snuggling up under the guise that she was just trying to stay warm, which was partially true. It was, after all, freezing. But in all reality she just wanted to feel close to him. She leaned her head on his chest, staring upward as well, the two sprawled out upon a blanket of ice under the winter moon. There were no bright streaks of Northern Lights in the Southern Isles for Anna to admire, but she suspected that she'd never seen so many stars in the clear, night sky.

"The sky's awake," she whispered to herself.

"How's your...uh…your _butt_?" Hans oh-so-eloquently asked, somewhat awkwardly. Anna scoffed.

"It was my lower _back_," she corrected. "And it still hurts," she added in a whimper. Hans let an arm go free to pull her closer, holding her fragile and petite body against his, comfortingly. He leaned his face down and instinctively placed a kiss upon her head; Anna felt her eyes well with involuntary tears, although she wasn't entirely sure why.

Neither spoke for a moment, knowing that they didn't _need_ to speak. And each wished silently that this moment could last forever, because looming in the distance were far too many things that they didn't want to think about; Elsa's arrival, the trial. Hans knew that their time was short, and that he was foolish for letting himself fall for the princess. Because that was just what he'd gone and done: fallen in love with Anna all over again. Hadn't he learned his lesson the first time? Better yet…

_ Hadn't she?_

No, they _knew_ their time was limited. In a matter of days the trial would have begun and ended. Hans tried not to think about having to face the woman he attempted to murder, and he _certainly_ tried not to think about Anna walking down the aisle to marry another man.

They both tried to forget about Hans being shipped off to Corona…or something much, _much_ worse. Hans shuddered, but he wasn't convinced it was from the cold.

"Hans?" Anna asked, meekly.

"_Hmm_?"

"What's…going to happen at your trial?" she choked, hoping the prince could ease her mind a bit, let her know that he was expecting a stern talking to and a slap on the wrist. But then again, Hans' punishment from Arendelle had already been dished out, and that punishment was exile. Any crimes Hans was to be judged upon now would be crimes against his own kingdom.

On top of worrying about the trial, Anna was plagued with guilt. She felt more than disloyal to her own sister at this point, actually hoping that _somehow_ the court would have mercy on Elsa's attempted murderer, a man she knew better than to feel anything but hatred for… And yet, here she was, snuggling beside him on a lake of ice under the stars, wishing that things could be different.

"I can't…really answer that," Hans responded somberly, honestly. He swallowed hard, suddenly noticing that the princess that lay in his arms had begun to weep. He reached down and pulled her chin up, making her face him. "What is _this_ about?" he asked, chuckling a bit, wiping away a tear from the princess' round cheek.

"I'm so sorry I came here, Hans," she sniffled. Hans was taken aback. He knew what she meant by the vague statement, but he didn't want to think about what life had been like before she'd come here, nor that her choice to do so had become one she was beginning to regret.

"Don't say that," he contested.

"King Elias wouldn't be pushing for a trial if I hadn't insisted upon it," she argued.

"Anna-" he began, trying to find the right words. How did he tell her that her coming back saved him? That it changed the way he saw the world, that it was the single most important thing in his life?

"I should have just left it alone," she said sadly. "I never should have come here." Hans shook his head, propping himself up with his elbows.

"Anna, _no_," he breathed, shaking his head. "You coming back was the best thing that has ever happened to me," he finally spit out, feeling very foolish for laying it out so blatantly. More so, he felt very foolish for allowing himself to actually feel that way. Anna's eyes widened, she sat up a bit, propping herself up as well.

"_What_?" she asked, bewildered at his semi-confession. Hans sighed, taking her hand and placing it upon his heart; Anna could feel it beating fast, even under the layers of clothes. Her mouth went dry, her own heart rate quickening.

"I didn't know how much I needed your forgiveness-" he paused, reaching up and placing his hand against her cheek, softly, "How much I needed _you_…before you came back. You came back for me."

"Hans, I don't-" she tried to speak, but Hans brought his hand towards her mouth, shushing the flustered princess.

"You believed there was still good in me. You didn't give up on me…I don't think you know what that means to me, Anna. Even after I fought it, even after I pushed you away time and time again…you never gave up on me." Anna felt flushed; she couldn't think, couldn't speak, she could only listen to the prince's heartfelt confession.

"Well, I care about you," she finally whispered, trying to shrug the words off with less care and emotion than she was currently subduing. She was feeling more and more nervous under his intense and loving stare. Her eyes wouldn't meet his, so he sat up and took her face in both of his hands, forcing her gaze upon him to emphasize the sincerity in the words he was speaking to her.

"The biggest mistake I have ever made in my whole life was hurting you, Anna. And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, you have to believe me."

"I believe you," Anna said quickly, taking in a staggered breath. Her heart drummed in her chest, her hands felt shaky. She wasn't completely sure what was happening, but the look on Hans' face made her realize whatever it was, it was going to be big.

"Thank you. For everything," he said seriously. "I mean that." Anna smiled weakly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, nervously.

"I-I don't know what to say," she whispered, quietly.

"Then…don't say anything." Anna was paralyzed, watching helplessly as Hans neared her, gently pressing his lips against hers ever so softly: a taste, a teaser. An invitation for her to continue, if she wanted it.

_ And oh, how badly she wanted it._

He pulled away slowly, his eyes begging her for some kind of resolve, some kind of approval of this brash action. Anna was both more confused and clear-headed than ever, the line drawn between what she felt she had to do and what she _wanted_ to do. In this moment, the rest of the world and those worries that came along with it seemed to melt away, along with any hesitation she'd been holding onto. They were drunk on this moment, letting themselves succumb to whatever was in the cards for them.

Anna leaned forward, on her own volition, passionately and pressing her lips back to his once more, somewhat desperately. It was as if she knew this may be the only chance she would ever get to feel the way his lips felt against hers, to drink him in. She gripped onto his cloak, pulling him closer to her and pressing her whole self against him. Hans reciprocated, honestly shocked that she'd been so receptive, albeit welcoming. He ran his hands through her hair, pulling her close. Anna practically climbed on top of him, her arms wrapping around his neck and pushing him down onto the ice.

"Ouch," Hans said quietly into her lips when he felt his head collide with the ice, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, _oops_, I'm sorry," Anna said worriedly, bringing her hand to the back of his head and rubbing it comfortingly.

"It's fine," Hans sputtered off quickly, pulling her back in. They didn't care about the consequences, they didn't care about what they were going to have to face tomorrow, all that mattered to either of them in this moment was being able to get lost in one another, no matter how short-lived they knew it would be.

Then, suddenly, Anna stopped. She took in a sharp breath, reluctantly and painstakingly prying herself away from his lips. She sat up and away, touching her lips with her fingertips in awe of what had actually just happened, as if she'd been broken from a trance.

"Are-are you alright?" Hans asked, turning towards her and trying to comfort the shaken princess.

"I-I feel dizzy," she whispered. Hans paused, a weak smile crossing his lips.

"Me too, actually," he responded, lowly. Anna's face was serious.

"No, I mean… I _really_ feel dizzy," she reiterated.

"Oh," Hans said. "_Oh_!" he repeated as he realized she meant she was feeling ill. He stood quickly, scooping the princess up into his arms.

"Whoa!" Anna exclaimed, being tossed up into his arms like a rag doll. Hans stared down at her, she shyly peered back at him, nuzzling into his chest.

"We're been out in this cold long enough, let's get you home and warm," he insisted, carefully trekking back towards the bank of the frozen lake, where Sitron was now waiting. Hans placed Anna upon Sitron's back, both of her legs dangling off the side of him. He climbed up as well, keeping the princess cradled in front of him, in case she needed to sleep. He snapped the reins, Sitron taking off into the wee hours of morning, back down towards the sleeping kingdom.

Anna wrapped her weak and tired arms around Hans's waist, feeling safe and comforted in his arms as they galloped back towards the kingdom. She was dozing on and off as she glanced out into the distance to see the pink and orange lights of the sunrise beginning to appear over the peaks of the mountains.

_ Had they really been gone that long?_

Involunatarily, her thoughts started to veer off towards the last time she was carried like this, on the back of a great animal in the arms of a man who loved her.

_ Kristoff_.

She hadn't thought about him in quite some time; she'd pushed him out of her mind over and over again to the point where it almost felt like he didn't exist anymore. But he did. And he still loved her. And he was still waiting for an answer, one that was going to be even harder to give, especially now.

These thoughts lulled her to sleep in the arms of another man. One that had hurt her more than she'd ever thought possible, but who still had her heart. And she wasn't sure she was ever going to be able to get it back.

* * *

><p>Well, if things hadn't been complicated before…now everything was a damn mess. Hans chastised himself the whole way home. On one had, he was liberated, ecstatic that he'd had the night he'd had with Anna. Over the course of the last few days, he'd been on such ride with his thoughts and emotions, trying to decipher between what he wanted to happen and what needed to happen.<p>

He wanted to marry this girl. He wanted to make things right in her world forever, offer her as much happiness as was humanly possible. He didn't care where they lived or what power he forsake, he just wanted to live out his days with her by his side.

But he needed to let her go. He was a sinking ship, and if he let her love him again, something he'd probably already accomplished, she was just going to get hurt in the wreckage. In the pit of his stomach, Hans knew that Elias had it out for him. This trial, whether Anna spoke well of him or not, was not going to end well. Especially once Elsa arrived to drive home the final nail in his coffin.

It wasn't that he didn't have faith that he would be able to sway the queen, apologize sincerely and make things right with her, no. It was that Elsa owed the prince no kind of mercy, no kind of leniency. He was already lucky that she hadn't had him shot in front of the Arendelle firing squad back this summer, let alone to come here and bless his union with her baby sister.

_ Well, if she hadn't approved of our union before…_

_ No_, he knew that Elsa was going to be livid when she arrived. Not only would she find that he was spending every waking moment with Anna, which she'd forbidden, but that they'd used that time together to heal and forgive and even fall in love?

And is that was this was?

_ Love_?

He hadn't really been throwing that word around lightly, especially after the first time, but this sensation in his chest was strangely different than anything he'd experienced prior.

Was love when you wanted the best for the other person? When you genuinely cared about their happiness and well-being? When you would sacrifice your own wants for theirs?

If all of that was true, then Hans was a man in love.

He glanced down at her peaceful, sleeping face. His chest ached, but his lips smiled. How did he get to be so lucky, as to be able to call her his just for a little while? His smile faded as he thought about how hard it was going to be for her, having to say goodbye.

How hard it was going to be for him.

She deserved to be with someone who could actually be with her, someone that would never hurt her. A safe bet.

_ Someone like Kristoff_.

* * *

><p>The castle was still quiet, mostly dark. Hans was relieved they'd made it home before his brothers had awaken. Hans whisked the tired and weak princess under his arm, leading her down the corridors and back towards her chamber.<p>

"Wait, Hans," Anna said, breathing heavily. He stopped turning towards her.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Anna didn't respond, simply began to collapse into his arms. "Anna!" Hans exclaimed, pulling her up and back into his arms. In a panic, Hans realized that his room was much closer than hers, which was clear on in the opposite wing of the sprawling castle. "Hold on," he instructed, carrying her the rest of the way to his room.

He opened his door, hurrying in and setting her down carefully into his bed. He sat beside her, taking her hand in his. He reached for her forehead, hot to the touch once more.

"Hans-" she whispered.

"Anna, I'm so sorry. I never should have taken you out in the snow, I don't know what I was thinking-" Hans stammered, feeling awful for sending the ailing princess into yet another relapse.

"Hans, _no_-" Anna tried to interject, repeatedly interrupted by Hans' heartfelt apologies.

"I am going to go get Dr. R-"

"Hans!" Anna said, her voice substantially raised. He stopped talking, looking down at the now-smiling princess. She raised up her hand, setting it softly on his cheek, her fingertips tracing down onto his lips. "Thank you," she said sweetly. She leaned up, placing a soft, innocent kiss on his lips. Hans smiled, squeezing her other hand tightly.

"For what?"

"Tonight…was the best night of my life," she acknowledged.

"Mine, too," Hans admitted, sheepishly. "Now get some sleep, I'll be right here if you need me," he promised, leaning down and kissing her once more, before climbing onto the bed beside her and holding her in his arms as she began to drift into a deep, deep sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**I am trying to cram as **_**much**_** fluff into these upcoming chapters as possible! I hope you guys liked it!**

**Leave me some lovin' why dontcha?**

**VVVVVVVVVVV**


	17. The Queen's Arrival

**Chapter 16:**

_The Queen's Arrival_

* * *

><p>"I'm afraid her condition is worsening," Dr. Roahl said quietly, somberly packing his stethoscope back into his doctor's bag. Hans, standing at the foot of the bed, felt his heart sink. He glanced from the doctor to the sleeping princess. She looked so peaceful that it was hard for him to imagine that she was even sick at all; had he not been spending so much time with her, he never would have guessed that Anna was even ill. She had been so positive and happy most of the time, her cheerful disposition remaining her most defining characteristic.<p>

Elias stood towards the doorway, looking quite somber as well. Hans could only imagine he was worried that Elsa would have a meltdown if anything happened to her dearly beloved sister, not that the king had come to care for the princess. In the time since Anna had been in the Southern Isles, he'd seen the princess so few times that Hans could count the occurrences on one hand.

Edvard and Frederick were also in attendance. Edvard stood over the princess and prayed, his rosary in hand, while Frederick thumbed through a medical catalogue, curiously trying to figure out which illnesses matched Anna's symptoms.

"Do you know what it is?" Hans asked the doctor, feeling quite hopeless. How could a seemingly perfectly healthy princess fall into such disarray in such a short period of time? And why wasn't she getting any better? Dr. Roahl sighed, his shoulders heavy. He turned towards Hans and stood, straightening his vest.

"I am still uncertain, but I am going to assume she acquired the illness aboard the ship," he deduced, turning to place a cool rag across Anna's forehead. "More than likely, it was caused by something she ate or drank," he added.

"I am leaning towards Cholera or Typhus…" Frederick mumbled his unprofessional opinion from behind his book.

"That can't be, those are peasant illnesses!" King Elias declared, aghast, finally speaking up from the back of the room.

"Aren't those both highly contagious?" Prince Hans asked, skeptically.

"Surely Hans would have come down with the disease by now if it were contagious," Edvard spoke up, "he spends every waking moment with Princess Anna." The three brothers and the doctor all glanced over at Hans, eying him nervously.

"I feel _fine_, guys," he shrugged, sighing. He walked to Anna's bedside, taking her limp hand in his and kneeling down beside her. "How are we supposed to help her fight this if we don't even know what it is?" he said quietly.

"I have some homeopathic medicines I'd like to try, at least to help build her strength and break the fever. Her body seems to be fighting it off the best it can, but she _needs_ to remain rested," he ordered, sternly.

"Do you hear that, Hans?" King Elias said darkly, knowingly. "That means no more joyrides around the castle in the wee hours of morning," he warned. Hans didn't look at his brother, just simply stroked Anna's beautiful, strawberry blonde hair with one hand and continued to cradle her hand with the other. Elias observed the moment, his eyes narrowing. "I would like a moment alone with Hans," the king ordered.

"I'll be back in a few hours with some medicine for the princess," Dr. Roahl promised. Edvard, Dr. Roahl and Frederick all quietly turned and left the room, leaving Hans alone with his eldest brother. Hans ignored Elias, picking the rag up from Anna's head to soak it in the bowl of cool water, gently wringing it out.

"What do you want?" Hans asked flatly, keeping his back towards the king. Elias slunk around to the other side of the bed, staring down at the sleeping princess.

"She really is quite beautiful, isn't she?" he asked lowly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Hans glowered at his brother as he lay the rag once more across Anna's forehead.

"What is your point?" he spat, suspiciously.

"You seem to have taken quite a liking to her," Elias observed. "I'm starting to suspect that this is hardly a punishment for you at all," he added. Hans shrugged as he brought the blankets to her chin. "You know it will all be over in a few days, don't you? There's no way Queen Elsa will ever agree to allowing her attempted murderer marry her sister," Elias reminded. "As I recall, she didn't even care much for you when you were a gentleman." Hans turned towards Elias, his eyes narrowed.

"Who said anything about marriage?" Hans snapped, becoming increasingly irritated with Elias' mind games. King Elias stood, towering a head taller than Prince Hans, menacingly.

"I've seen the way you look at her, Hans. I saw it at dinner, and I see it now in how you stroke her hair and sit by her side. You are simply setting yourself up for disappointment."

"What do you care?"

"Just don't say I didn't warn you," he cautioned, turning from the prince and walking towards the chamber door. "I will allow you to live in your fantasy a little longer. You'll need the memories to reflect upon when you're in those cold mines. Or at least to bring you comfort on that long walk to the gallows," he sneered, leaving the prince in the darkened silence.

Hans felt a pressure in his chest, a well of emotion beginning to boil just under the surface. Elias was right, what was he thinking allowing himself to fall in love with Anna? He thought about what Dr. Roahl had said and began to realize that there was a chance that Anna wouldn't pull through this, whatever it was. He also felt guilty for taking her out into the cold, just worsening her illness even more than it already had been. He tried his best to subdue the instinct to allow a sob to erupt from his chest, breathing deeply and trying to calm his anxious heart.

For a split second, he really did wish she'd never returned. That he didn't know how it felt to love Anna, or to love at all. She taught him how. She had taught him so much in the time he'd known her. He'd taught her bravery, loyalty, sacrifice. She'd taught him love and forgiveness, she'd taught him selflessness. Surely, her sole purpose wasn't to simply teach him of these things and then parish, was it? Now that he'd know what it was to love her, he never wanted to imagine his life without her.

But then again, he knew she it was worth it.

_ She was worth it._

"Hans?" she called out weakly, he voice cracking. Hans wiped away what tears had formed in his eyes and took hold of her hands once more.

"Here, I-I'm here," he responded, bringing her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across her knuckles. "Anna?"

"Hey," she smiled meekly, pulling the cloth from her eyes. "I just had the most wonderful dream," she sighed, whimsically. Hans forced a smile, attempting to set off no indication that he'd just been in any sort of turmoil.

"Oh yeah?" his voice cracked, bringing his hand to her cheek. "What was it?" he whispered.

"It was a ball," she recalled, her smile growing. "You were there. We danced and ate chocolate…Elsa was there, too! And she was actually enjoying herself, if you can believe it," Anna struggled to sit up, and Hans fluffed her pillows behind her back so she could. "It felt so real. Makes me excited for the ball we're going to be having here." The ball… Hans had forgotten all about it. "I can't wait to see Elsa, she is going to love it here," Anna said, her voice full of hope.

"I'm not so sure about that," Hans mumbled. Anna looked at him, an eyebrow cocked.

"Wh-why not?"

"I hardly think she will be in any mood to celebrate when she gets here and sees how sick you are," he said somberly. Anna swallowed, brushing off his comment.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be fine by the time she arrives," Anna said, dismissingly waving her hand. "I mean, so I was a little weaker than I've been. It was probably being out in the cold last night," she deduced. Hans sat up, his smile strained.

"Anna…that wasn't last night." Her smile began to dissipate.

"Wait, what?" she asked. "Yes it was," she said shaking her head in disbelief.

"No, Anna," Hans said sadly, climbing onto the bed beside her. He stared down at her, his eyebrows furrowed together with concern. "That was three nights ago. You have been sleeping since. We've been so worried about you."

"That's…no…" Anna mumbled as she tried to remember. It all seemed so muddled together; her head was foggy. "Hans," she whispered, looking up at him, her eyes worried. "Hans, what's wrong with me? D-does the doctor know yet? Am I dying?" she asked, holding onto his shirt like a life preserver, anxiously.

"No, of course not!" he spit out, instinctively. He cleared his throat. "He doesn't know exactly what it is, but he will be back soon with some medicine for you. I'm sure he will be pleased to see that you're awake," he said, standing. Anna reached for him as he stepped away from her bed.

"Where-where are you going?"

"To the kitchen. We need to get you something to eat, you haven't had solid food in days."

"Oh," Anna said, looking down at her stomach. "Yeah, I guess I am pretty hungry," she smirked. Hans walked over to her, leaning down and placing a kiss upon her forehead, softly.

"I'll be right back."

* * *

><p>Elsa stood in her cabin, her half-packed storage chest open in front of her. She had taken a break from packing to gaze out the large window at the rolling, snow-covered hills of the Southern Isles, almost mesmerized. She was relieved that it was winter, since her snow powers weren't going to be too conspicuous with snow and frost everywhere. She took in a deep breath, anxiously wringing her gloves in her hands as she watched the land roll by and heard men prepare to port.<p>

"Looks like we're really here," Kristoff uttered from the doorway. She turned towards him, a warm smile appearing on her lips.

"Finally, right?" she giggled. She turned back, beginning to pack her bag once more. "I bet you can't wait to get off this ship."

"No more than you do," he shrugged. "To be honest, I'm a little nervous. I hardly think Anna will be expecting to see _me_. I'm actually starting to have second thoughts," he confessed.

"Well, it's a little late for that now, isn't it?" Elsa pointed out, placing her crown upon her head and pulling a dark, royal blue shawl over her shoulders. She reached down, one hand at a time and sheathed her hands with white, elbow length gloves. Another reason she was glad it was winter: it wouldn't seem odd to have her hands concealed. She suspected it would take years before she got the hang of her powers.

"I suppose it is," Kristoff chuckled.

"It'll be fine, Kristoff," Elsa comforted. "I'm sure Anna will be ecstatic to see you; I bet she's been so lonely out here, all alone and sick."

"I hope so."

"You hope that she's lonely?" Elsa laughed, shaking her head as she closed her trunk. "That's sure sweet of you," she joked, her voice sarcastic. Kristoff blushed as he realized he'd said it aloud.

"No, I just- I mean," he stammered a bit before sighing, surrendering. "Well, yeah, I guess. It's better than the alternative, right?" Elsa didn't say anything, her mind quietly buzzing. She knew what he meant; the last thing Elsa wanted was to imagine her sister getting along swimmingly with any of the Westergaard sons, particularly Hans. And Kristoff was right, if she were to be honest with herself: they didn't really know what they were walking into. But the thought of Anna alone and closed off in a room somewhere made her stomach tight. She'd had enough years of that, she didn't deserve another moment like that.

But it was not going to be a problem anymore. She was here, and she would take care of her sister and get her back home safe and sound, as though this little excursion never happened.

* * *

><p>Anna sat across from Hans in the library, both silently mulling over the gave of chess in front of them. Hans eyed the board, face reflecting his deep concentration. Anna smirked, knowing full well that she had a good lead on the prince, and his doom was imminent. She'd freshened up, her hair in a lose braid over her shoulder and her green dress complimenting her now-rosier cheeks. Hans was just happy to see that the color had returned to her face, almost glowing.<p>

"Still your move," she sang.

"I _know_," he snapped back, knowing that he was pretty much at a loss no matter which way he moved his king. He brought his hand to the game piece, hovering over it a bit. Anna eyed his movements bemusedly, trying to subdue her grin. He was cute when he was flustered.

He picked up his king, moving it hesitantly to a vacant space on the board.

"You _sure_ you wanna move it there?" she cautioned, tapping her knight. Hans glanced down, realizing it was in the knight's path. He quickly retracted the move, sighing exasperatedly.

"Let's do something else, this is stupid," he suggested.

"I think you're just a sore loser," Anna joked. He sighed again, irritation painting his face. He studied the board, back to square one. "You could always-" Anna tried to suggest, he shot a glare in her direction.

"I don't need your help," he hissed, his pride bruised.

"You're just as bad at chess as you are becoming king," she stung. Hans stared at her in disbelief, a smile spreading across his lips.

"I can't believe you just said that to me," he gasped. She began to laugh.

"I just call it as I see it," she mused, leaning back in her chair coolly. Hans stood abruptly, nearing the princess.

"Take it back," he demanded, playfully.

"No," she giggled, her arms folded in defiance. He leaned down, grabbing a hold of the arms of her chair, turning her out towards him.

"I have ways of making you surrender," he said in almost a growl. She stared up at him, her breath short.

"Oh yeah, what's that?" she said quietly, her eyes intently staring at his lips, curled into a tight, one-sided smirk. He leaned down slowly, his lips touching hers softly. He didn't realize until their lips met that he hadn't kissed her since they'd first gotten home from their ride around the Southern Isles. He also hadn't realized how much he'd missed the feeling of her lips against his, or how it felt like home to him. She reached up, running her hand through his amber hair, gripping onto the back of his head and him closely. He lowered to his knees, pressing his body up closer to her as he pulled her in tightly, his fingertips trailing her arms, then down to her sides, gripping onto her hips, which were now at the edge of her seat.

His staggered breath escaped his lips as his mouth roughly clashed with hers, drinking her in and trying his best to keep control of himself; it was a heard thing to do. His desire for her was ever powerful, especially knowing how close they were to having to say goodbye. The last thing he would ever want to do would be to take her virtue from her, but at the same time, his heart ached knowing they would never get a chance to be with one another in that way. It made him want it all the more.

He was the one to pull away first, leaving the princess attempting to pull him in for more, but he resisted, against his own desires. She was breathing heavily, her eyelids heavy.

"Wha-what is it?" she asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No, of course not," Hans said hoarsely. They sat there a moment, intertwined and debating whether to continue what they were doing or pull away, the air thick with tension. He placed his hand on her cheek lovingly, rubbing his thumb across her swollen lip. He slowly brought his face towards her to kiss her once more when…

BANG

The door to the library burst open. Hans jumped back from the princess, startled and standing at attention as a guard came into view. The guard eyed them skeptically, both looking flushed and guilty.

"What is the meaning of this interruption?" Hans asked indignantly, just relieved it hadn't been Elias at the door. The guard cleared his throat, before turning his head over his shoulder and calling out.

"They're in here, your majesty," he bellowed, his eyes never leaving Hans'. Hans quickly smoothed down his vest, then patted down his disheveled hair. Suddenly, Elias appeared in the doorway, a dark smile plastered across his face.

"I do hope we aren't interrupting anything," he asked, insincerely.

"We?" Hans asked, his eyes narrowed into slits as he stared at his brother.

"Anna?" a woman's voice called out. Hans went white.

Elsa was here.

Anna's eyes widened in recognition, her face brightening.

"Elsa?" she called out excitedly, standing quickly. Elias moved to the side as Elsa entered the room, her pale face lighting up to match her sisters.

"Anna!" she yelled, dropping her shawl as she sprinted to her sister, taking her in for a strong, lingering hug.

"I missed you so much!" Anna whimpered, gripping onto her sister tightly, realizing just how much she'd missed her in the time she'd been gone. Elsa opened her eyes, catching a glimpse of Hans standing uncomfortably nearby, her smile falling into a frown in an instant. She pulled out of the hug but never released her sister from her arms. "Anna, what is he doing in here?" she asked, her voice full of worry, disappointment. Hans stared at his feet; he knew this conversation was unavoidable.

"Elsa, it-it's-" Anna stammered, trying to keep from getting herself too worked up. "It's fine, _really_. Hans and I, we've reached an… _understanding_," she chuckled nervously. Elsa turned her direction towards the prince, recoiling in disgust.

"An understanding? Anna, what are you _talking_ about?" she groaned, pressing her fingertips to her temples, frustrated. "This is exactly what I was afraid of," she sighed, shaking her head. "Are you _crazy_? He is a despicable human being."

"I'm standing right here," Hans pointed out, his voice flat. She turned towards him, her face aghast.

"Yes, I am aware. And you _shouldn't_ be standing right here, you should be somewhere far away from me and my little sister," she spat. "Or in a dungeon," she added. Anna reached for her sisters face, lovingly turning it back towards her. Elsa stared back, her hard face softening.

"Elsa, please, you have to listen to me. I can explain _everything_," Anna insisted.

"No, Anna! You _can't_," Elsa determined, shaking her head.

"He's-he's been taking care of me."

"Well, he doesn't need to do that anymore," a man's voice rang from the doorway. Anna paled, knowing instantly whose voice it was. She stared past her sister at the tall, burly blonde man standing next to Elias.

"K-Kristoff," she breathed, forcing a weak smile. Kristoff neared her, his eyes shooting daggers in Hans' direction. Anna felt dizzy, her heart beating fast and her breathing shallow. Hans looked at Anna, instantly recognizing the look in her eyes. Suddenly, her knees buckled out from under her as she collapsed to the floor, feeling faint.

"_Anna_!" they all seemed to shout in unison. Hans leapt to her side instinctively, trying to pick the princess back up into his arms. Kristoff pushed the prince back, his face like stone. Hans watched helplessly, barricaded now by Elsa and Kristoff from touching Anna at all.

"I've got it from here," Kristoff growled, picking Anna up into his arms. "Show me to her bedroom," he ordered to the guard, who quickly turned on a heel, leading the way. Elsa followed, shooting one last uncertain glance at Hans. He swallowed, hard. Anna eyed him sadly over Kristoff's shoulder, as he carried her out of the room and away from Hans.

Hans stood in astonishment that so much had occurred in just one simple moment. He felt sick, confused and worried, knowing full well that this was the beginning of the end. His eyes moved from the ground up to his brothers callously smiling face. He chuckled at his little brother's pain, lowly.

"And so it begins," Elias sneered, before turning and leaving Hans alone with an unfinished game of chess.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**Next chapter coming soon! I am also beginning to work on another fanfiction that I've been mulling over the last few weeks, but I am worried it will distract me from this one. As much as I love writing Hans redemption fics, I am really in love with writing a more vindictive, sociopathic version, too. So maybe that fic can wait for the time being. Hope you guys are still enjoying it.**

**Also, THANK YOU for your kind reviews. I don't have to tell you that reviews are seriously the best thing about this site, and it always brightens my day to see that you guys are enjoying the story. **

**You should DEFINITELY leave me a lil somethin' somethin'. **


	18. Star-Crossed

**Chapter 17:**

_Star-Crossed_

* * *

><p>"Why don't you have a seat," Dr. Svedsen suggested. Hans shook his head, irritated.<p>

"_No_, thank you, I'd rather stand," he declined. He chuckled to himself, nervously, as he paced the office like a madman. "This is all your fault," Hans hissed under his breath to Dr. Svedsen. As always, the doctor remained calm behind his oak desk, hiding behind his spectacles and mountains of paperwork.

"Could you _elaborate _on these feelings, Master Westergaard?" he asked, evenly. Hans scoffed.

"Don't start all that doctor jargon with _me_. I am speaking to you man to man, not patient to doctor." Dr. Svedsen leaned back, clasping his hands over his large, jovial belly. He nodded, amused.

"Alright, go ahead," he entertained. "What would you like to talk with me about?"

"Anna," Hans said, rolling his eyes, as though it were obvious.

"Of course," Dr. Svedsen sighed. "What is it about this time?" It wasn't that he was tired of hearing about Anna, it had just becoming increasingly clear that Anna was a source of madness in Hans, ever since the day he'd met her. He'd always been borderline, the risk of him falling off the brink had been hardwired into him from his troubled youth, but it was _she_ that threw his world into turmoil, and it was she alone that could cure the madness in him.

But in order to cure ones madness, one had to admit they were mad in the first place.

"_You_ said I should seek her out. _You_ said I should ask for forgiveness. _You_ said that would make everything _better_," Hans rambled.

"Did it not?" the doctor challenged.

"Of course not!" Hans shouted, irritated. "It just made everything an even bigger mess!"

"Why do you think that, Prince Hans?"

"Because. Because it _worked, _you imbecile," he spat painfully. Dr. Svedsen took no offense; he knew these were the simply the hurt words of a lovesick man. "Probably more than you expected it to," he said, his voice beginning to calm. "I love her," he added, an afterthought, in almost a whisper. The doctor nodded, as though he'd suspected this might be a possibility.

"What is love to you, Hans?" he asked. Hans neared the sofa, finally beginning to feel his blood pump slower, his heart slow down. He felt the flushness fall from his face and his hands ceased their incessant shaking. Ever since Elsa had gotten there the day before, he'd hardly been able to contain his anxiety. Worse was that Kristoff had come as well, which was hardly what he'd been expecting. He and Anna had gotten good at pretending that the man didn't exist; seeing him there, carrying Anna off to her bedroom, the pure, unadulterated hate in his eyes, just made Hans feel even more hopeless.

What they had been doing was _wrong_.

Anna was in a serious relationship with Kristoff. Clearly Hans and Anna's feelings for one another had grown past an innocent flirtation at this point. And although he knew that they were destined to be parted, he hardly thought he'd take it this badly when the time arrived.

Elsa and Kristoff had done a good job at barring Hans from being able to see the princess. They'd locked themselves in her room with her, insisting that Hans leave the dining cart outside the door and leaving the princess alone. He had no idea what was happening, whether he fever was back, whether she was eating like she should be.

_ Whether she missed him. _

It was only a matter of hours and he missed her more than he could stand, hence the impromptu meeting with the doctor to keep himself from doing anything too drastic. He had half a mind to try to climb through her window at this point, just to make sure she was okay.

_ Of course, she was okay. _

She was in the company of two people who loved her more than anything, maybe even more than he thought he loved her. But the trial was in three days, the ball would be tomorrow, and he had promised to be her date. He knew that more than likely that deal was null and void with Kristoff's arrival and Elsa's hovering, but by God he would at least give her a dance, at least give her a proper goodbye.

He reflected on the doctor's question, realizing that he'd been sitting in quiet contemplation for far too long.

_ What is love? _

"With Anna?" he asked. Dr. Svedsen made no indication whether that was what he meant or not, just sat quietly and patiently awaiting Hans' response. "Love is…" he paused, his face complacent as he tried to find the right words. A weak, lovesick smile parted his lips. "Love is the sound of her laugh, or the way she blushes when she is nervous. It is the way her voice sounds when she just wakes up. It's the way she folds her arms when she is pretending to be angry with me, but her smile giving her away," he explained. He sighed, knowing well that he sounded pathetic, but he couldn't help it. It was all true. "Love is the way she looks at me when I am being hard on myself, or the way she fidgets with the buttons on my jacket while I read to her. She IS what love is to me, Dr. Svedsen. Something I never knew I could feel, something I will never feel again. But most of all…it is her ability to make me earn her. Because she is worth it."

"That is all very touching, Master Hans. I am glad to see that you were able to experience these feelings and emotions before-"

"Before I get sent away? Before she sails home and out of my life forever? Dr. Svedsen, I hate you for encouraging me to feel…anything for her."

"But, isn't it have better to have loved and lost than to have not loved at all?"

"Was _that_ your lesson?" Hans asked, dumbfounded. "Because it is cruel. And if I wasn't insane before, I certainly am _now_!" Hans fumed, beginning to feel himself heat up all over again. He stood, indignantly. "You have to tell me what to do, you have to tell me how to keep her in my life-" Hans demanded, desperation in his eyes.

"I can't do that, Hans. She is not yours to keep, only she can decide if she wants to be with you," Dr. Svedsen explained. Hans cupped his hands over his ears, frustrated. He didn't want to hear that.

"You're my therapist, you're supposed to guide me," Hans lamented, beginning to pace once more.

"I have given you the tools you need to make your own decisions, Hans." Hans furiously leapt at the doctor, grabbing a hold on the lapels of his jackets and pulling him up towards him, violently.

"No, that's not the answer!" he yelled. Svedsen eyed him carefully, warningly, his face unmoved by Hans' bullying. "Tell me what to do," Hans choked, his eyes full of angst. He realized just how out of line he was, slowly letting go of the silent doctor's shirt and taking a step back, terrified of his own outburst. Dr. Svedsen cleared his throat, adjusted his vest and wrote a few things down on the papers in front of him.

"We will continue this next week," he muttered, never looking up at the forlorn prince.

"There won't _be_ a next week," Hans swallowed, before turning on a heel and leaving the office, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Anna stared out the window, trying to push down the ever-growing sense of longing in her chest. The snow-covered ground looked soft and pillowy, and she would have given anything to be out in it instead of cooped back up in her room. The memory of she and Hans, sprawled across the frozen lake flashed in her head, but only for a fleeting moment. She sighed, her eyes glancing quickly to Elsa and Kristoff who sat chatting by the fireplace, hoping that they didn't notice her sulking.<p>

_ They didn't_.

They'd seemed to have really bonded over the course of the last few weeks, which she was both confused but delighted with. Neither had been all that forthcoming to one another before, and it was nice to see them getting along so well.

Still, she couldn't keep her mind off of Hans too long before it would wander back towards him. She missed him, and she felt silly for feeling that way. She'd known better. She knew that she shouldn't have allowed herself to feel anything for the prince, especially after all that had happened. She glanced down in her hand, cradling the ivory knight chess piece in her hands. She sighed again, slipping in into the pocket of her nightgown and settling back into her bed.

"Anna, do you need anything?" Elsa asked, peering concernedly over at her from the sofa. Anna didn't answer, just shook her head, silently. Elsa knew something was wrong, but she just hoped it wasn't what she _thought_ it was. She stood, walking towards the princess' bed slowly, Kristoff watching on. "Are you sure? Some tea?" she offered. Anna shook her head once more.

Elsa felt awful that her sister was so sick, but worse as knowing that something _else_ was wrong with her as well, something she wasn't saying. She watched Anna shoot Kristoff a sideways glance, one he missed as he stared down at his hands. Elsa turned towards him, her eyes kind and her smile warm.

"Kristoff, could you give my sister and I a moment, please?" Elsa asked, sweetly. Kristoff swallowed, eyeing them intently. He wasn't sure what it was they needed to talk about, but he was never one to hover around when he wasn't wanted. He opened his mouth to speak, before simply nodding his head obediently and leaving the room.

Once the door latched, Elsa neared her sister. Anna glanced up at her, forcing a weak smile. Elsa smirked back at her, placing her chilly hand on Anna's forehead. The medicine had been helping Anna keep the fever away, for that she was grateful. But in all of her years, Elsa had never seen her sister like _this_. She was somber, much more than just sick. She was sick in an entirely different way.

_ Lovesick_.

"Anna," Elsa breathed. "What's going on?" she asked, sitting down beside Anna upon her bed, rubbing her leg comfortingly. Anna shrugged. How was she supposed to tell her sister she'd developed feelings for the last person in the world she was ever supposed to fall in love with? How did she tell Elsa that she didn't want to go home, that she was torn in two; one half ecstatic to see her sister, the other half wishing she still had time with the prince.

How did she tell her that seeing Kristoff elicited no feelings at all…other than guilt?

"Anna, you've never been one to shut me out, that's my job, remember?" Elsa smirked, trying to lighten the mood. Anna was unrelenting. She felt too weak and tired to put on a charade for Elsa, no matter how hard it was going to be to explain her feelings for Hans.

"Why did you bring Kristoff here?" she asked, quietly. Elsa froze; she hadn't suspected that was going to be the first words uttered from Anna's mouth. She let out a nervous chuckle, shaking her head.

"Because…he _loves_ you. And you love him, remember?" she explained, her eyes serious, intense. Anna sat up.

"I do…"

"…but?" Elsa coaxed, even though she thoroughly didn't want to hear the end of Anna's thoughts on this subject.

"But…he wants an answer. And I still don't have one for him," Anna confessed, sadly.

"He wanted to make sure you were alright, he cares about you, Anna."

"I care about him too," Anna sputtered, terrified that she was coming across as flippant; that was not at all what she was trying to do.

"Then what is it?" Elsa laughed, trying to ease the tension. The air was thick with tension; Elsa watched as Anna fidgeted with her hands, nervously, as though she were trying to muster up the courage to say her next words. "Hans," Elsa sighed, knowingly.

"I forgave him, Elsa," she choked. Elsa's face fell, her stomach dropping quickly.

"I- I don't think we should talk about this right no-"

"Then _when_, Elsa?" Anna said through tear-filled eyes. "When should we talk about this? The ball is tomorrow, his trial is right around the corner-"

"Don't you realize that this is exactly why I didn't want you to come here!?" Elsa's voice rose, the room dropping drastically in temperature.

"Elsa, you need to calm down," Anna warned, her eyes narrowing. "You can't just freeze me out of talking about this." Elsa turned from her sister, frustration coursing through her veins, pacing the room. "You asked what was wrong, I am trying to tell you," Anna explained. Elsa turned to Anna, her face flushed.

"He almost killed us, Anna!"

"I know that!" Anna said back, passionately. "He looked into my eyes and told me he never loved me. He doused a flame and almost let me die, cold and alone. He held a sword over your head and tried to take over our kingdom."

"Exactly! Those things are unforgivable," Elsa croaked, her voice hoarse.

"But I do. I do forgive him. And if you even took the time to get to know him, to talk to him-"

"_No_." Elsa said, "I can't," she said, shaking her head sadly. Anna opened her mouth to speak, but realized that any attempt to gain her sister's blessing would be futile; her mind was made up. Not that she could blame her.

During the whole fiasco, Elsa had very little contact with Hans. She didn't know any of the goodness in him, only the bad. But even with the bad, there was hardly anything at all she actually had witnessed. In the times that they'd communicated, Hans had always been kind, gentlemanly; _warm_, even. Even as he clutched the sword high over his head to end her, Elsa's back was turned. It was Anna that had witnessed the very worst in Hans, and the very best.

And yet still had still found it in her to forgive him.

She lay back on her pillows, trying to keep herself from becoming any more emotional than she'd already become. Elsa stood, walking away towards the sofa to try to calm down, herself. Her fingertips tingled under her gloves as she felt her frustration manifesting as frost upon them.

"I-I'm sorry, Elsa," Anna whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you," she added, knowing full well that this was not a battle she was going to win, not _now_.

_ Not like this. _

* * *

><p>Hans rounded the corner, swearing bitterly under his breath, pushing the dinner cart down the hallway. Without his hours tied up with chores and Anna, he'd been left with far too much time to sulk and reflect on just how down he was really feeling. He wished he could go back to not feeling at all, the numbness that used to comfort him through the times he was feeling low, but unfortunately (and fortunately) Anna had changed that in him.<p>

He glanced up, noticing Kristoff sitting outside of the bedroom chamber, soberly.

"Oh, _great_," he muttered. He didn't particularly care to be forced to interact with the man he'd been helping Anna betray, nor was he under any certain terms that Kristoff was all that fond of _him_ as well. The blonde man glanced up as well, doing a double take when he saw the prince nearing him.

"That's close enough," He said sternly, "I can ta-"

"Take it from here?" Hans finished, flatly. "How did I know you were going to say that," he said rhetorically with a roll of his eyes.

"I think you've done enough, don't you?" Kristoff snipped, harshly.

"So, you're guarding her door now? Making sure I don't get in to see her?" Kristoff's hardened face fell a bit, his eyes failing to withhold the melancholy behind them. Hans stared at him, before a look of realization spread across his face. "She sent you out, didn't she?" he asked, attempting to subdue the hopeful tone.

"No!" Kristoff snapped, "No. They are discussing private matters right now," he corrected. Hans pushed the cart forward, just to feel it stop abruptly. He glanced down to see Kristoff's foot in the way of the wheel.

"I need to take this to her," he said, trying to keep himself from getting too worked up.

"I said, they are discussing something privately," Kristoff reiterated.

"I have orders to serve her, you can't stop me-"

"I believe your _initial_ orders were to stay away from her, if I am correct."

"She doesn't seem to mind my company," Hans spat, instantly regretting the words as soon as the escaped his lips. Kristoff grimaced, turning away from the prince and retreating to his chair outside the door. Hans sighed, feeling guilty. Kristoff looked genuinely sad, and if there was anything Hans knew, it was how complicated and saddening love could be. He was sure it couldn't be easy for the guy to be here, so far from home, and at his girlfriend's ex-fiancé's castle, nonetheless. He tried to muster up some compassion. "Look, I just mean that I have been helping take care of her for weeks now, I am not a threat to her," Hans clarified. Kristoff shrugged.

"No, you're a threat to _me_," he mumbled. Hans swallowed hard, trying to pretend he didn't hear that part. Suddenly, the door flung open. It was Elsa, glancing over towards Kristoff.

"Kri-" she stopped when she saw Hans, standing nearby the with dinner cart, clearly caught off guard. "Uh…Kristoff, you can come back in now," she said quietly, never taking her eyes from the waiting prince. Hans drummed his fingers atop the dinner cart, waiting for instructions. He assumed he'd be sent away, as he had every time since the day before. But, to his surprise, Elsa wordlessly opened the door wide, nodding him in subtly, clearly against her own wishes. Hans was surprised, but grateful. He pushed the cart forward, following the Queen and Kristoff into Anna's bedroom chamber.

Hans peered past the two, catching the sight of Anna laying in her bed. He couldn't help but feel a strong tugging at the corners of his mouth when he saw her; it was as though years might as well have passed, he was so relieved just to be in the same room as her once more, even with a less-than-thrilled audience. He kept his composure, as Kristoff and Elsa eyed him intently.

He cleared his throat, and Anna glanced up at him. Her eyes widened, her face lighting up.

"_Hans_," she exclaimed with a smile, the first one she'd had since she'd last seen him.

"_Princess_," he replied, a weak and inconspicuous smile on his own face. The four looked from one another, awkwardly. Hans looked to the ground, pushing the cart over by her bed. He wanted to reach out to her, touch her, but he knew better.

"How are you," she asked, quietly. She reached her hand out and took hold of his arm, her eyes worried. He gave her a comforting smile.

"I'm fine," he assured. "I'm more worried about you," he added, bringing his hand to her forehead. "Is the medicine helping?" he asked. Elsa and Kristoff watched on, trying to keep from looking too uncomfortable with Hans and Anna's hushed and seemingly private chat.

"Do you want some tea, Anna?" Kristoff asked, nearing the cart, stepping between Hans and Anna.

"Uh, sure," Anna said, quietly. Hans scoffed under his breath, not unaware that Kristoff was purposefully breaking up their conversation. He stepped back away from the princess, turning away towards the empty lunch cart from the meal before, beginning to clear the dishes off, quietly. He glanced sideways as Kristoff began to pour her a cup of tea, then at Anna who was staring back at him with a weak, knowing smile. He looked back as Kristoff raised the cream to her cup.

"She doesn't like milk," Hans said, lowly from the other side of the room. Kristoff paused, glaring at Hans. He exhaled, annoyed, setting the cream back down gently, staring at the tea tray. "Two sugars. No cream," Hans instructed, much to Kristoff's irritation.

'She can speak for herself," Kristoff spat.

"_Kristoff_," Anna breathed, scoldingly. He looked at the princess, unable to conceal the hurt in his eyes.

"Are you serious, Anna?" he asked, astonished. She swallowed nervously and didn't say anything. Hans smirked to himself, pushing the other food cart towards the door.

"Good evening, Anna. It was good to see you," he said politely, bowing to Elsa. "All of you," he added, before pushing the cart out of the room and away from their staring eyes.

* * *

><p>Hans tossed and turned; no position in his bed could bring him any solace of sleep. His mind was too loud, too busy, for him to even try to shake off the events of the day. He stared at the vacant space beside him. It wasn't as though Anna had made a habit of filling one side, more so that she would never fill that side of the bed. He tried his best to not think of such things, to push those little reminders out of his head, but they kept creeping back up on him.<p>

He glanced at the grandfather clock across the room: 3:00 am. He was certain that at this rate he wouldn't sleep a wink. He sighed, throwing a pillow over his head to try to drown out the loudness in his brain, but it didn't seem to be working. Suddenly, he felt a cold, clammy hand on his forearm. Startled, he sat up quickly, throwing the pillow from his face.

"Who's there?" he shouted.

"Shhh!" Anna's voice hissed. "It's just me," she said. His eyes adjusted to the dark, but sure enough her beautiful face was illuminated by the moonlight pouring in through his giant window.

"What are you doing here?" he gasped, half confused, but half ecstatic. He didn't wait for an answer, simply grabbed hold of her and clutched her to his chest in a strong hug. "Anna, you shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be out of bed!" he scolded.

"I know, but…I-" she stammered, her voice full of emotion. She brought her hand to his cheek, placing a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. "I had to see you," she breathed. She clutched onto him her shoulders heaving in heavy sobs. "I've missed you," she sniffled into his chest, her tears beginning to soak through his night shirt. He rubbed her back comfortingly, struggling with the exact same angst she was.

"Anna, you shouldn't _be_ here," he reiterated, although it pained him to say the words aloud. All he wanted was this moment, it had been all he could think about for the last tedious, grueling hours that they'd been apart. But he knew she didn't belong here, he knew that nothing had really changed.

His trial was still coming. Her sister would never allow it. She was supposed to be engaged to another man.

So many reasons they were doomed.

"I know…could I just…lay here with you…for a little while?" she plead. He hesitated, but of course he couldn't say no to her, he was becoming incapable of it. He smirked, pulling her in for a long, lingering kiss.

"Just for a little while, but you have to be back before dawn," he warned. She gripped onto him, laying her head upon his chest.

"I'll take what I can get," she whispered, before falling asleep to the sound of his steady breathing.

* * *

><p><strong>Wow, I was kinda on a roll today, guys. I usually update once (maybe twice) a week but I am too excited to churn the next couple chapters out, hence why you are getting two updates in less than 24 hours! <strong>

**I have a pretty clear, laid-out plan on how the story will wrap up, and I promise you that you guys will not be disappointed!**

**You guys are seriously the best. Thank you SO MUCH for the reviews/favorites/subscriptions! It means a ton to me. **

**VVVVVVV You know what to do! VVVVVVVV**


	19. The Ball

** Chapter 18**

_ The Ball_

* * *

><p>Hans awoke to an empty bed.<p>

Although he was relieved on one hand, since he knew that her absence in her own bedroom chamber would only cause alarm and complicate things further. However, he couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness to see the empty space beside him. It was an poignant reminder of what would never be.

He got up, dressed, and hurried down to the kitchen to start on breakfast; there was going to be a lot to do today in preparation for the ball that evening, and very limited time to do it in. He had definitely shirked his duties over the course of the last two days, what with Elsa's arrival and all. His mind had been too preoccupied to focus on the tasks at hand, so he was relieved that Marguerite had done a swell job at covering for him in the kitchen without making it _too_ obvious that he was missing half of the time.

To be honest, he was dreading seeing Marguerite. Lately he'd been really good at dodging her incessant questioning about his '_torrid love affair_,' (as she called it), which he had neither confirmed _nor_ denied up until this point. However, he knew that he could only avoid the conversation for _so_ long. When he entered the kitchen, she was by the door, ready to pounce.

"Are you ready to talk about it yet?" she asked, her round face hopeful. Hans sighed, although nothing about her eagerness surprised him. She had developed a habit of mothering Hans regularly, and he could only keep her satiated with 'I'm fine, _really_,' too much more before her tactics got a little more aggressive in pulling it out of him.

"No, but I don't think I have a choice," he muttered as he walked past her. "Although I hardly think now is the time, wouldn't you agree? We have a ball to prepare for, _remember_?"

"How could I forget, I'm putting it together by myself!" she lamented, looking quite worn. Hans paused, realizing that he'd really been taking her kindness for granted with all the other things floating around in his mind. He swiftly pulled the frazzled woman in for a quick hug.

"Yes, I know. And thank you, Marguerite. For _everything_," he spouted off, sincerely. She eyed him carefully, noting the forlorn sadness in his eyes.

"I have a feeling you're not just talking about the kitchen duty," she mused, her eyes squinted in speculation. "Alright, out with it. I have had enough of your cryptic comments and sulking around. I want to know what is going on!" she demanded, heatedly. Hans smirked, happily taking her nagging as a sign that she cared. She reached out her chubby hand to take him by the arm, dragging him towards the privacy of the pantry, out of the eyes of the bustling servants.

"Marguerite, this is _really_-" he was interrupted by her shoving him inside the pantry, shutting the door behind them. "unnecessary," he finished, flatly.

"Now," she said, striking a match and igniting a rusty old lantern. "How can I help you? Let me help you," she practically begged, gripping onto him with both arms and lightly shaking him.

"Marg, I appreciate the sentiment, you know that," Hans sighed, shrugging sadly. "But I am afraid there is nothing you can do, even if I _wanted_ you to."

"You fell in love with her, didn't you?" she asked, her eyes misty, her hand clasped over her heart, the other over her pouted mouth. Hans nodded and her eyes widened. "And her… with _you_?" Hans smiled weakly, giving a little shrug.

"I mean…I _think_ so. She snuck into my bedroom chamber last night," he confessed, shyly. "But Marguerite, she is engaged to Kristoff. And Elsa is never going to forgive me-"

"I seem to recall you believing that Anna would never forgive you as well?"

"Yeah, but this is different. Elsa and I don't have a history like Anna and I do. I was such an idiot for allowing myself to fall-"

SMACK

Hans was interrupted by a swift smack against the back of his head, Marguerite shaking her head, scoldingly.

"Don't you dare give up so easily. I have watched you go from a spoiled little brat to a real man in the course of the last few months, Master Hans. A man your mother would be proud of," Hans felt his chest tighten at the mention of his mother. Would she have been proud of him? He wasn't so sure. "I am proud of you. And Anna loves you. This was meant to be," Marguerite stressed, her face pink and her eyes expressive. "You have to fight for her, Hans. You can't make the same mistake as before. This might be your only chance-"

"Marguerite, I might die in a week's time," Hans said sadly, slowly, resting his hands on her shoulders. She shook her head, disbelief washing over her face.

"I refuse to believe the King would-"

"If Elsa testifies against me, I wouldn't be shocked if that's my sentence. I tried to murder her, Marguerite. I have come to terms with the fact that my fate may not be up to me," he choked. Marguerite's eyes brimmed with tears, spilling over quickly. She shook her head, yet again, her face becoming panicked.

"No," she breathed. "No, it's not going to happen that way," she insisted. "I-I can get the servants to help me, we could help you escape," she offered. "I have family in Corona, they could take you in-"

"And risk your own lives as well?" he said, brushing the idea off quickly. "You know the sentence for harboring a criminal," he said morosely. "But thank you," he added, pulling her in for another hug. He took a moment, letting the woman sob into his chest. He patted her head lovingly, placing a kiss upon her crown. "As long as I stay away from Anna, Elsa may show me mercy," he conceded. "I have to let her go."

* * *

><p>"I <em>really<em> wish you'd reconsider," Elsa said quietly as she fastened Anna's long, silky hair to the side of her head an elegant and elaborately jeweled pin. Of course, she was referring to the ball, which was to begin soon. Anna simply stared past her sister, examining her own reflection in the mirror; her wan complexion left her looking tired, her skin almost transparent. There was no denying that she was ill, but her lack of sleep and her ever-breaking heart were not helping. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep; her thoughts were consumed with worry as the trial date grew closer and closer.

She shakily picked up her blush brush, sweeping the pink powder across her rounded cheeks in hopes of bringing some color back to her face.

"I _want_ to go," Anna replied, her voice detached. "Besides, the ball is in honor of _you_. What kind of sister would I be if I didn't attend?" she asked, a slight cattiness in her tone. She was not excepting to receive a reply. Elsa pursed her lips together, mostly to keep from scolding her sister ant further. They'd really not spoken much since the day before, when Elsa refused to entertain Anna's conversation about Hans. She hated hurting Anna, but she knew it was for the best.

Her little sister was naïve, even still. Her torch she seemed to be carrying for that _criminal_ only seemed to confirm it. She always saw the good in people, which was her best and worst characteristic. It was her job to protect her, even if it meant Anna would be sore at her.

Elsa reached down and placed a gold and emerald-stoned pin in Anna's loose waves, taking a step back and examining her work. Her own hair was pulled into a tight, formal bun, her dress white with gold beading. She smirked to herself.

"We clean up well, don't we?" she admired. Anna tried to smile, but it was a faint one. "You look beautiful," Elsa complimented, taking a good look at her sister's empire-waisted, royal purple dress.

"Thank you," Anna said quietly, almost inaudible. Elsa hated seeing her sister like

this. She was beyond frustrated that Dr. Roahl gave Anna clearance to attend the ball; she should be in bed. But the medicines had kept the fever away, and she was told that as long as she took breaks staying seated and stayed hydrated, she should be fine. Still, Elsa could hardly wait for the trial to be over and for them to get Anna home to her own doctors, her own kingdom.

"Anna, I know you think I'm being unfair…_unreasonable_…" Elsa began quietly. Anna stared down at her hands in her lap, averting her eyes away from Elsa's softened, earnest face. "But I promise you, I am only trying to protect you," she insisted, gently.

"You don't _have_ to protect me, Elsa," Anna responded, her voice meek. "I can protect myself. I have taken care of myself my whole life, it's… not your responsibility." Both of the women couldn't help but notice the shift in their positions, Anna being the one closed off and Elsa trying to break through. "And besides, Hans isn't anyone you have to protect me from, anymore. He's changed, _really_." Elsa sighed, knowing that this was yet again another useless attempt at reaching Anna, helping her realize that Hans was not worth all of this anguish. She stood, stopped by Anna's soft hand taking hold of her arm. She glanced down at Anna, who stared back at her, intensity shining through her dulled eyes. "I love you Elsa, but I don't think you can change my mind on this."

Elsa's eyebrows furrowed, her face falling into a frown. Anna retreated her hand as she felt her sister's skin grow cold instantly under her touch. Elsa opened her mouth to speak, interrupted instead by a knocking. The ladies jumped at the quiet rapping at Anna's chamber door. Elsa and Anna exchanged glances, unsure of what to expect. Elsa quietly walked towards the door, opening it slightly to peek out.

"Oh," she said, bearing a forced grin. "Hello, Kristoff," she said, opening the door widely for him to step inside, slightly relieved at the interruption of the sister's intense moment.

"Good evening," he greeted, a crooked grin on his face as he eyed the Queen. "You look lovely as always," he complimented. He then glanced past her, his eyes widening at the sight of Anna, standing by her vanity, a picture of beauty. She smiled meekly, leaning against the vanity for support.

"Good evening," Anna greeted, trying her best to be in better spirits around him. She had realized that he didn't deserve the cold shoulder she'd been dishing out, which had mostly just been a result of her own guilt. She may be marrying this man, after all.

"Wow, Anna, you look great," Kristoff grinned, nearing her slowly. He reached his hand out to her, she eyed it nervously. She looked him up and down, examining his more formal attire; a pair of blue slacks and a buttoned shirt, complete with a royal jacket that Elsa had most assuredly bestowed upon him. She took his hand, hesitantly, forcing a smile. Her thoughts naturally veered to Hans, the fact that it was he who promised to be her date that evening, and she tried her best to conceal her disappointment.

Kristoff's large, strong hands were not like Hans' long, slender ones. His broad shoulders and stout, strong legs were not lean and trim like Hans'. His arms were not like the ones she'd fit so perfectly in, the ones she'd grown accustomed to. She tried her best not to be making these comparisons, but they came without her permission, whether she welcomed them or not.

"Shall we?" he asked them both, offering his large, stoney bicep towards Anna. She picked up her feathered mask and took his arm, her glances evading his love-filled stares. She and Elsa shared one more tension-filled glance before she put on her best smile.

"We shall."

* * *

><p>The ball was far more lavish than Hans had anticipated; Marguerite and the wait staff had <em>really<em> outdone themselves. The ballroom, itself, was unrecognizable. Colors of all shades and hues were strewn about, dressing the walls and window coverings with festive, beautifully decorated elegance. An orchestra played, the room illuminated by dimly lit candled chandeliers, setting the ambiance for the party.

It was a masquerade; a brilliant idea proposed by Marguerite that would allow Hans to slip in and out of the gala unnoticed after she learned he was not going to be allowed to attend.

"Oh, _Pish-posh_," she'd uttered, waving a cavalier hand. "Your brothers will be so overwhelmed with colors and wine, they won't even notice you," she'd insisted, putting together a feathered mask to conceal his identity.

_ She was right_.

No one in attendance was even slightly recognizable to him, and so far he'd yet to spot even a single brother, aside from Elias, who sat at a throne overlooking the entire party. Although he felt silly donning a black and gold mask that Marguerite had fashioned for him, he was just happy to be able to blend in the with the crowd, without drawing too much attention to himself. He knew that it was unlikely that he would even get some time alone with Anna, but just the slight chance made it all the more worth it. He was already in trouble as it was, what did he have to lose? As long as Elsa didn't catch wind of their rendezvous, he should be just fine..

He took a spot staked out by the grand entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse of Anna when she got in, but hidden enough out of view that no one spotted him. He clutched his glass of wine in his hand, tipping it back and refilling it regularly, just hoping that he could bring himself to go to her, even if it was only for a moment.

In all his years, Hans had never found himself this crazy, this neurotic, about something. He knew and stood by what he'd told Marguerite earlier that day, that he needed to let her go, but something inside him just couldn't keep himself away, and just like it had been since the day he'd met her, the incessant pulling towards her outranked what he knew was right.

There was a lull in the music, and Hans' eyes averted to Elias, who stood next to his beautiful Queen, at the head of the room.

"My friends," his deep voice bellowed in a tone he used only when trying to appear jovial and welcoming even though Hans knew better. "Thank you for your presence this evening. It warms my heart to see you all enjoying yourselves on behalf of our honored guest," he announced. He lifted his hand, gesturing towards the large doors in the front of the ballroom, opening slowly. "May I present to you Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

The crowd murmured, their muted claps filling the room as Elsa came into view, poised and proper as always. Hans stared at the door, awaiting Anna's entrance trailing behind. Lo and behold, she walked in only a few steps, and Hans found it hard not to feel jealous when he saw her linked, arm in arm, with Kristoff.

She was the picture of perfection, as he suspected she would be. Her long, strawberry blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft curls, her purple, sheer-skirted dress fit her svelte figure like a glove, leaving very little to his imagination. He could see her lips curled into a weak smile, her eyes shining, even though her face was mostly concealed by her elegantly decorated mask.

However, he could also see though that mask, to the worry and the anguish. He didn't have to talk to her to know that she was struggling, not unlike him. How could she not be, when just the night before she'd shared his bed? Begged him to hold her while she drifted off to sleep?

Hans stood back, watching her from a distance. Every movement she made seemed loaded, melancholy. Even at her most sick and weak that he'd seen her, she'd never lost her spark, her light. But this Anna….she seemed as though her light was flickering, to be snuffed out at any moment. He wasn't sure if she was getting sicker, or perhaps his absence was taking a toll. He hoped that neither of those things were the case, and that he was simply mistaken.

* * *

><p>Anna stared around the room, trying her best to not show the desperation in her face. Her sister, whether she wanted to admit it or not, could read her like a book. She'd done a good enough job of getting Elsa worked up since she'd been there, she didn't dare want to unleash Elsa's fury upon a party of innocent patrons.<p>

Still, her eyes searched for him, knowing full well that they should not.

She glanced up at Kristoff, looking slightly uncomfortable in his own skin; these things were hardly his forte. She couldn't blame him, however, given that he was raised by trolls in a forest for most of his life. But oh, did he _try_. She smiled sympathetically at him, knowing how hard he was trying to be what she needed right now, to prove to her that he could be everything and more to her.

Anna couldn't shake the feeling that she was always perpetually getting Kristoff accustomed to life, and yet it was so unnatural for him to be here, around all these people. She thought back on the Coronation, how well-read and regal Hans had been, charisma simply eluding from him in every way. She thought about how this night was supposed to be a night they could be together, to relive the night they first met, but with even better results.

"Are you having a good time?" Kristoff asked in her ear, nervously. Anna simply nodded, although it was getting harder and harder to mask her disappointment every time a man passed by and she realized that it was not Hans. "Would you like to dance?" Kristoff offered, trying to hide the reluctance in his voice the best he could; she appreciated the effort, chuckling a bit.

"You don't know _how_ to dance," she teased, "and I know you don't _want_ to," she added. He exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," he laughed. "I would definitely embarrass myself and you," he assured, his big brown eyes staring down at her lovingly. She loved and hated the way he looked at her like that, like she was the only girl in the room. Like he loved her.

_ She did love him, too, in a way. _

She owed a huge debt of gratitude to this man. He was the best man she'd ever met, Hans included. He was selfless, giving, loving and strong. He loved her with a tenacity that couldn't be matched. He'd been her rock and her best friend, and that hadn't changed even after she'd dragged him through the mud over the course of the last few months, refusing to give him an answer. If his heart was hurting over her even a _fraction_ of how much hers was over Hans, she knew she owed him an apology.

And yet, after all of that, he was still here by her side, unwaveringly.

"Thank you, though," she said, smiling up at him sweetly. He leaned down towards her, as he had dozens of times, placing a gentle kiss upon her lips. She tried to loosen up, but she stood rigidly. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt wash over her, as though she were being disloyal to Hans at that very moment. She graciously took his kiss, as to not hurt his feelings, but peered past him towards the crowd. She watched as the crowd parted, a man coming into view, watching the couple stoically from the other side of the room.

He wore a black and gold mask, but she knew who he was almost instantly.

_ Hans_.

Kristoff parted from her, none the wiser that Anna had been staring past him at the man she couldn't forget, the one she had given her heart to months ago, only to have it handed back to her in pieces. And although Kristoff had done his part to slowly put the pieces back together like a jigsaw puzzle, it wasn't _his_ heart to fix. She reckoned it never would be.

Through their masks, from one side of the room to the other, Anna and Hans were locked in a stare down, his sad expression unmistakable even if concealed. She knew it had to hurt for him to see Kristoff kiss her, however innocently, but she didn't know how to juggle this façade she'd been balancing since the moment Kristoff and Elsa arrived. She felt anxious, nervous.

"I am going to go get a drink, do you want anything?" Kristoff asked a dazed and preoccupied Anna. She shook her head, wordlessly, and he left her alone to go towards the refreshment table though the crowd.

Anna's gaze at Hans was unwavering, she had to go to him. She took in a sharp breath and a determined step forward, only to feel herself pulled back. She turned to see Elsa standing next to her, gripping onto her arm tightly, her eyes worried.

"Anna. _No_," Elsa cautioned quietly, looking out towards Hans as well. Anna knew from the look in her sister's eyes that she knew _exactly_ who Anna was staring at, and just what she was trying to do. She looked at her sister pleadingly.

"_Please_, let me _go_," she retorted, attempting to pull her arm away. Elsa's grip remained locked onto Anna's arm, her fingertips digging into her sister's skin, her desperation growing. The women struggled for a moment, trying hard not to draw too much attention to themselves.

"Wh-what about Kristoff," she stuttered. "Don't you even care what this will do to him?" Anna turned back towards Hans as he shot Anna one last forlorn, longing glance before bowing his head and walking away, disappearing into the crowd. Anna wanted to run, shout out to him across the room, but Elsa held onto her tightly. She whipped around towards Elsa, her eyes filled with tears, the lump in her throat almost painful.

"You have no right to dictate to me how to live my life, Elsa!' she fired passionately at her sister. Elsa went to open her mouth, but instead Anna ripped her arm away from Elsa's grasp. "Stay out of this!" she said sternly

"Anna!" Elsa called out after her, watching helplessly as Anna trudged through the crowd, desperately searching for Hans among the faces. Elsa began to breathe heavily, wringing her gloved hands together and trying her best to keep herself from overreacting, but she could feel an uncontrollable storm brewing inside of her.

"Where'd Anna go?" Kristoff asked, returning to where he'd last left them, a drink in hand. Elsa stammered, unsure of what to say to him, trying to remain calm.

"Uh-uhm…I'm…not sure," she relented, realizing that Anna had now completely disappeared amidst the sea of people.

Anna examined all of the masks as she veered through the crowd, all dancing and drinking wine from one side of the room to the other. She tried her best to navigate though all the people, but was getting pushed around by clumsy and tipsy party-goers, making it increasingly difficult. Suddenly, she was shoved forward, falling into a man's arms. She glanced up, staring at a slightly recognizable face behind a green and silver feathered mask.

"Throwing yourself at me, Princess?" the voice asked, arrogantly. He lifted his mask to expose his perfectly chiseled face, and Anna instantly recognized him as Prince Isaak.

"Hardly," she mumbled, her irritation growing by leaps and bounds. She tried to pull herself away from him, but he gripped onto her tightly, clutching her to his chest against her will.

"Such a _tease_," he growled as she struggled to push the prince away from her, his breath reeking of alcohol.

"Get _off_ of me," she seethed, using what little strength she had to shove him away from her.

"What's the matter, Anna? You don't like to dance?"

"Not with _you_," she spat.

"Oh, that's right. You prefer my idiotic, weakling of a little brother, don't you?" he groaned. "How about you let me show you what it is like to be with a _real_ man," he suggested, crudely. Anna had heard enough. In a swift movement, she threw her arm back and slapped the egomaniac clean across the face, knocking him back a bit.

"Hans is a million times the man you will _ever_ be," she said through gritted teeth as he took a moment to collect himself, his face shocked. Anna slipped away, back through the crowd, before exiting the ball and standing, shakily, in a nearby sitting room. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she recounted what had just occurred. She glanced down at her reddening hand; it burned from striking Isaak, but she hardly cared. She was more than happy to do it again, if the occasion called for it.

_ What an arrogant, conceited…_

"That was quite a hit," Anna heard a voice whisper hoarsely in her ear from behind her. She couldn't help the smile from creeping across her lips at the recognition of his voice, his breath hot on her neck, sending chills throughout her body.

"That's two out of twelve Westergaard Princes that I've had to get violent with. I'd say I could bust out the rest in the next year, if I try hard enough," she teased. She glanced over her shoulder to see his smirking face, his green eyes unmistakable behind his mask. Relief washed over her as she realized that he was really here, that they were alone together. "Hi," she smiled. "I'm glad to see you," she added, her voice sweet and sincere.

"Me too," he smiled. Her smile began to fade.

"Hans, about Krist-" she began, suddenly remembering that he'd witnessed Kristoff's kiss just moments earlier. He leaned down, pressing his lips softly against hers, silencing her.

"That doesn't matter right now," he whispered, staring intensely into her eyes. "Besides, I _think_ I owe you a dance," he added, before taking her by the arm and turning her towards him, smoothly pulling her out of the side room and back out into the crowd of waltzing guests. They swayed to the music, not unlike the first night they'd met, but this time was so much _different_. He held her close to his chest, twirling her about the room as though she were weightless.

"I've missed you," Anna confessed, her breath shallow as he spun her around. She gripped onto him tightly, her other hand clasped onto his as he held onto her waist. "I can't believe time has flown by so fast," she added, sadly.

"I know," he replied, his sadness in his voice matching her own. "At least we have tonight," he said, comfortingly, leaning his forehead to hers. She didn't respond, simply leaned her head against his shoulder, taking in his scent, feeling his heart beat against her chest. Oh, how she _wished_ things could be different, that this moment could last forever.

She sighed, opening her eyes. Instantly, Anna spotted Elsa, who was staring at the pair twirling on the dance floor, her face distraught. She looked up at Hans, panic in her eyes. She began to near the couple, her determined steps propelling her towards them.

"We have to get out of here," she insisted, gripping onto his hand and dragging him through the crowd. Anna could hear Elsa calling out after her, but she ignored the Queen's words.

"Where are we going?" he asked, puzzled as she pulled him forward, still unaware that the Ice Queen was hot on their trail. Anna trekked forward, exiting the chaos of the ball with Hans in tow. Once they made it to the quiet of the hallway, Anna quickly ushered him down the winding corridors, searching for a room to seek solitude in.

"Hurry!" she demanded. Hans did as he was told, following the princess as her job turned to a sprint. He could hear the faint sound of Anna's name being called, and began to realize that someone was following them; he didn't have to think to hard to realize just who it was. They hurried down the hallway, before Hans opened the door to a vacant sitting room, pushing the frantic princess inside and shutting the door behind them.

"What is going on?" he asked through his staggered breaths. Anna was even more winded than he, trying to piece together a coherent sentence. She ripped her mask from her face, tossing it to the ground. Hans followed suit.

"We need to leave," she demanded. "_Tonight_."

"What? Why?"

"I-I can't do it, Hans. I can't marry Kristoff. I can't let you go on trial…we need to get out of here, we need to run away together," she insisted, tears pouring down her cheeks. She hadn't even realized she'd begun crying. He neared her, pulling her in for a long embrace.

"_Anna_, we can't run from this," he said sadly. "You can't just leave your kingdom…your sister, she loves you."

"I know," Anna sobbed. "But I…I can't lose you. I want to be with you, Hans!" With those words, she pulled herself up to the prince, her lips clashing violently against his, throwing herself upon him. He gripped onto her tightly, his intensity matching hers easily. She pressed him up against the wall, the desperation in her movements increasing by the second. Hans ran his hands up her back before becoming tangled in her hair. He couldn't help it, the feeling was so intoxicating. He wanted more than anything to ease her aching heart, to heal his own.

"Anna, _no_," he breathed as her lips trailed down to his chin, his neck. His protestant words lacked any kind of conviction as he felt himself succumbing to her touch, her lips. "Anna, we can't just-"

"Get away from my sister!" the words echoed throughout the vacant room, Anna and Hans separating instantly, startled by Elsa's loud voice. Hans and Anna turned to see Elsa standing in the doorway, one of her hands now ungloved, a glowing mass of frost hovering ever-so-slightly above her palm, ready to strike the prince.

"Elsa, _no_!" Anna yelled as Elsa inadvertently shot off the frosty blast, Hans ducking out of the way just in time. Elsa had clearly startled herself, her eyes wide and her face shocked that she'd actually fired. Hans lay upon the ground, only narrowly having eluded the Queen's powerful strike. "_Hans_!" Anna gasped, throwing herself down near him, running her hand across his cheek. He opened his eyes, slowly, groaning as his hand reached for his aching head. "Hans, were you hit?" Anna asked, nervously. He shook his head.

"Get away from him, Anna, I'm warning you," Elsa tried to say sternly, but her voice quivered.

"Or you'll _what_, Elsa? You'll hit me with your ice? Again?" she snapped. Elsa's eyes narrowed.

"I am not the bad guy here! I am just-"

"_Quit_ trying to protect me, Elsa!" Anna demanded, standing and facing her sister. "Don't you _get_ it? I love him!" Anna took in a sharp breath when she realized she'd said it aloud. She glanced down at an equally surprised Hans, pulling himself up from the floor.

"You…you _do_?" he asked, his voice laden with awe. A weak, embarrassed smile formed across her face.

"I do," she reiterated. She looked back towards Elsa. "I know you can't possibly understand, but I love him Elsa. I didn't expect it, I didn't-"

"ENOUGH!" Elsa bellowed, her body emitting an icy wave that shot through the room, once again barely missing the star-crossed couple.

"Elsa, if you would just listen-" Hans tried, attempting to calm the explosive Queen.

"NO!" Elsa yelled. "You listen to me," she growled, nearing the prince angrily. "I will NEVER approve of this!" she spat angrily, as Anna watched on, her heart sinking. She glanced up and noticed a crowd had gathered in the hallway, watching on as Elsa cornered the Prince. "You will not speak to my sister anymore! You have been nothing but a burden on my family since the day we met you."

"Elsa, I'm sorry-" Hans attempted. Elsa's face twisted into a look of disgust. Hans looked in front of him and realized that he could see his own breath, the room cold as Elsa held her hand up, the glowing call of ice dancing above it.

"You're sorry!? You tried to kill me, take over my kingdom and break my sister's heart and you're sorry? And now, you go through the trouble of brainwashing her into believing that she loves you all over again? No, Hans! You don't even know what sorry feels like," she growled, menacingly.

"Elsa, _stop_," Anna plead desperately, watching on helplessly. She fell towards the ground, her breathing staggered as she began to feel faint from her illness. Too much was happening, too much turmoil. She felt herself fading quickly.

"Elsa, look at Anna!" Hans shouted, gesturing his arm out towards her weak and flailing sister.

"No, Hans. You look at her. You did this. If she hadn't felt it was her duty to come here, to come to you, she never would have gotten sick in the first place!" Elsa reasoned. "And now she is dying, and it is all because of _you_!"

"_What_ is going on here!?" Elias' strong voice bellowed as he made his way through the crowd. He approached the doorway, his eyes widening in surprise as he caught sight of the scene unfolding: Hans was backed into a corner with a powerful, seething Queen Elsa in front of him, Anna collapsed upon the floor nearby. "What is the meaning of this!? Your majesty," he yelled, nearing Elsa cautiously. "Has my brother done something-"

"Yes, King Elias," Elsa said, her glower unwavering as she stared into Hans' eyes. "He has attempted to defile my sister. I demand that you take him to the dungeon until his trail. I will not stand idly by as he is given another opportunity," she commanded. Elias' glare grew to a scowl.

"_Certainly_, your majesty," he agreed, all-too-happily. He snapped his fingers at the guards standing by.

"What?" Hans uttered, his face confused, panicked. "No, no I _didn't_!" he interjected, as the guards neared him. Anna watched in horror, attempting to speak up for the prince, her cries going unnoticed amidst the turmoil. Anna reached out towards him, her fingertips grasping at nothing.

"Hans," she sobbed. "No!" Hans shot one last glance at Anna.

"Anna, it's okay," he yelled out towards her. "I promise, it'll be alright. I will see you soon," he assured.

"Don't count on it," Elias snarled as Hans was led out of the room. He turned towards accumulated crowd, a fake smile plastered across his face. "Nothing more to see here," he announced. "Let's go back to the ball, shall we?" he said as he turned and ushered the prying eyes away from the room, leaving an distraught Anna sobbing on the floor, her sister watching on sadly, wishing she hadn't had to do anything as drastic as what had just occurred.

"Anna?" Elsa said quietly, her voice much calmer. She kneeled down, sighing. "I know you're angry…but…one day, you'll underst-"

"Get out," Anna whispered through her uncontrollable weeping.

"_Anna_-"

"GET OUT!" Anna screamed, her face red, her tears falling from her cheeks freely. "I will _never_ forgive you for this." Elsa swallowed hard, backing away slowly, her heart in pieces, leaving her sister alone to mourn in peace.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**WOW. 14 PAGES LATER…. Whew! I underestimated how hard this chapter was going to be to write. And how emotional!**

**This is probably one of the darkest chapters I've had to write. I hate hurting these characters, but it has to get worse before it can get better.**

**I can promise you all a happy ending, but you're going to have to wait a few more chapters to get it. Coming up next: The Trial. (DUN DUN DUN!) **

**Special thanks to all my readers, and those of you that have taken the time to let me know that you're liking the story. **


	20. The Trial - Part I

**Chapter 19:**

_The Trial - Part I_

* * *

><p><em> Drip. Drip. Drop. Drip.<em>

Hans stared at the ceiling of his tiny cell, the one he'd been in more times that he would care to admit. The cell was felt smaller than the last time he had been in it, but he figured that was due in part to the shackles around his wrists, fastened to a chain that only had a few feet of give on them from the wall. He had only enough slack to lay on his cot; he couldn't even reach the bars of his cell. The wooden cot was all but comfortable, the tiny pillow allotted to him might as well have been non-existent, and the dungeon was well below freezing at this time of year. All those things didn't matter to him, though. He could endure those things and more if he had to.

_ Because she said she loved me._

He'd hoped that had been the case the whole time, deep down. He'd thought he'd seen it in her eyes a few times, in the way that she smiled at him. The way that she had snuck into his room or held onto his hand, in a way he always knew she was his. But the words, actually uttered out in the open? In front of her less-than-thrilled sister?

And although he knew that her declaration should have made him happy beyond measure, nothing could ease the throbbing, aching, longing in his chest that just confirmed what he'd already known: He loved her, too. And yet, he couldn't have her.

_ Especially now. _

He recounted the moment over and over again, her hurling herself onto him, begging him to make a run for it with her. The desperation in her eyes seemed no less dire as the time she'd thrown herself at him in the Library, begging for him to save his life. It was as though this time her life was in danger of something else, but still as terrifying to her: perhaps a life without him?

They _could've _ran, too.

They could have taken a side door to the underground tunnel, packed a satchel and took off. He could have taken Marguerite up on her offer, led a secret and humble life in Corona. He pictured it for just a moment; a farm, horses…Anna could sell flowers in the marketplace and he could have taught riding lessons and worked the farm…he knew nothing about that kind of thing, but he figured he could learn. They could have laughed by the fireside every night, had a couple children, (_preferably a girl or two_, he thought to himself, because he would be more than happy to have a thousand little Annas around him to love and protect). They could have grown old and died in one another's arms, like he'd read in romantic novellas.

_But it was all gone before it had even really started. _

And now, with no promise of any _titles_ or _crowns_, he knew for sure that he loved her. And he reckoned he always had. It had been dormant for a while, but it had always been there.

He exhaled slowly, emptying his lungs, hoping to alleviate the pressure in his tightened chest. He closed his eyes and wondered what was in store for him, the trial looming just hours away. He hoped Anna was alright; she'd been so heartbroken as the guards seized him and carted him off to the dungeon; he knew her weakened heart couldn't take much more turmoil.

He couldn't get the hate-filled look in Elsa's eyes out of his head, the way she looked at him with such disdain. Not that he didn't understand why she felt that way, but he realized he'd become a spitting image of his naïve lover for just entertaining the idea that Elsa could even possibly change her mind about him. He knew for a fact that when she spoke at his trail, she would seal his fate.

And, without a second thought, Hans wished for death.

He knew what the mines would be like; hours upon hours of hard labor, only to return to a labor yard for a few cold hours of sleep before returning again. And while he could take his punishment, he could take the cold, long hours and the hard work, the loneliness and the poor rations…he couldn't take knowing that he would never see Anna's face again. To him at that moment, that sentence seemed worse than death.

"I am leaning towards steak," he heard a familiar voice croak from across the way. He grunted, pulling his pillow over his face to try to shut it out. "Maybe potatoes." It was no use, he could still hear the old man clearly. He pulled the pillow down, peering out towards Lars, who was leaning against the bars of his own cell, staring at Hans from afar with his trademark, sinister grin.

"What are you babbling about now?" Hans groaned, sitting up and propping himself up with his elbow.

"Why, for your final meal," Lars said nonchalantly, as if it were the most mundane subject matter. Hans clenched his jaw, the irritation building quickly. It was Lars that got him into this mess in the first place, and he was literally the last person he wanted to converse with. "Let me guess…you seem like more of a seafood man to me," Lars continued, tauntingly.

"I haven't thought about it," Hans snapped, annoyed.

"Well, you'd better think about it," Lars said, his eyes dark. "The clock is ticking, after all." Hans stood, nearing the bars before his chains grew taut, keeping the prince from getting any closer.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared though his metal bars at Lars. "Why'd you convince me to take over Arendelle, what was in it for you?" Hans was taken aback as Lars began to laugh. It was a low, hearty chuckle at first, before growing into a maniacal, full-fledge cackle. "What is so funny?" Hans yelled over the noise.

"QUIET DOWN, OVER THERE!" a phantom voice from a guard bellowed down the hallway. Lars' laughter tapered off into a hacking cough, before finally he became silent, staring at Hans intensely.

"I asked you a _question_," Hans glowered. "Several, actually."

"You of all people should know what the rush of what being all-powerful feels like," he answered, cryptically. Hans' eyes burned, his throat felt like it was all on fire.

"For nothing. You did this all for _nothing_," Hans whispered to himself.

"For the challenge. To see if I could. I have to say, Hans, you made it far easier than even I had given you credit for."

"You destroyed my life for nothing!" Hans screamed at Lars, his face red, his stomach in knots. "Don't you get it? I was getting out! I was going to live a happy life and you ruined it!"

"No, Hans. You ruined it. I just gave you the tools."

"You're a sociopath," Hans spat.

"And you're weak," Lars hissed. "No matter. We will have forever to hash this out when we're buried side by side in shallow, unmarked graves," he laughed, morbidly. Hans went to open his mouth, to rip into the horrible old man, but was cut off by the sounds of voices down the hallway.

"Hey, you guys can't come down here," he heard a guard say.

"I am a _Prince_, I can do as I please," he heard a familiar voice respond, haughtily.

"King Elias commands-"

"_I_ command you to let us through at _once_, or you'll have to answer to someone much more important than our King, and that is our _Lord_." Hans felt his lips curl into a small grin at hearing his brother manipulate the guard with his hellfire and brimstone-filled threats, and in a matter of seconds he heard footsteps navigating and echoing off the walls of the dungeon.

As Hans stared down the hallway of his cellblock, he saw Edvard run past in his usual cloak with his rosaries jingling around his neck.

"Edvard!" Hans called out. Soon he saw his brother backtrack, his eyes searching for Hans' cell.

"He's over here," Edvard bellowed over his shoulder to someone, before running down to Hans' cell, quite out of breath. "Brother," he greeted through staggered breathing.

"I've never been happier to see you. What-" Hans stopped, when he saw a cloaked figure approaching behind Edvard.

"I brought you something," Edvard smiled warmly. Hans watched as the cloaked figure pulled down the hood, coming face to face with a pale but beaming Princess Anna. "Well, _someone_," he corrected.

"_Anna_!" Hans gasped, trying to near the bars but once again being held back by the metal, rusted chains. Anna threw herself into the bars, reaching her arm in as far as she could to try to touch him, but to no avail. He studied her weakened state; she looked worse than before. "Wh-what are you doing here? You should be in bed!"

"I know, but… I just _had_ to see you," she breathed, her eyes misty. "We were just lucky Edvard agreed to help us." Hans looked to Edvard, grinning from ear to ear beside them.

"She is one very determined young lady," Edvard admired.

"So I've realized," Hans agreed, chuckling under his breath, glancing back at Anna's face. "Anna, I am _so_ sorry-"

"You didn't do anything _wrong_, Hans. I never should have forced you out of the ball, I never should have ran off from Elsa-" she began to babble. Hans looked down at his chains, wishing more than anything he could just touch her soft face. Edvard eyed the tragic couple, sadly.

"Guard!" Edvard yelled back down towards the hallway. Rounding the corner, a royal guard appeared, presumably the same one they'd just spoken to just moments ago.

"What's going on down there," he yelled out harshly, nearing the cell.

"I _demand_ you open this cell," Edvard said, trying to make his usually soft-spoken voice seem demanding. The guard hesitated, eyeing them all tentatively.

"_Look_, I'm already going to get in enough trouble as it-"

"_Please_," Anna begged, her voice cracking, her arm still extending into the cell. "It will only be a minute," she promised. The guard stared at them a moment longer, his stern face softening a bit before he sighed, wordlessly pulled out his keys and slid one into the lock of the cell.

"You have _one_ minute," he said finally. Anna backed up and watched impatiently as the guard cranked the door open. "And the shackles stay _on_," he added. Anna ran to Hans, throwing her arms around his neck and planting kisses on his face, eagerly. Hans laughed, taking a step back to allow just enough give in the chains to wrap his arms around the overexcited princess. He held her to his chest tightly, closing his eyes and taking in her scent, her warmth.

"I didn't think I'd get to hold you again," he said quietly into her ear as he held her close, then burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"I know, me either," she whispered back. She pulled away, rubbing her hand along his cheek, staring deeply into his eyes. "I-I promise, I will defend you tomorrow. I will do anything I can to keep them from sending you away…or…" she paused, choking down a sob. She couldn't bring herself to even say the alternative out loud.

"Thank you," he whispered, "but you and I both know it's not up to you. Whatever happens tomorrow…it won't be your fault," he assured, pulling her back in and pressing kissing her lips softly, his heart full yet aching all at the same time. "Did you mean it?" he asked, shyly, trying to keep a large grin from his lips. "Did you mean what you said to Elsa?" She thought for a moment, looking up at him through big eyes and long eyelashes.

"That…That I love you?" she asked. Hans nodded solemnly. He knew she'd meant it, but he wanted to hear it again more than anything. She nodded, sheepishly, her cheeks pinkening. "I don't think I ever stopped," she replied.

"I love you too, you know," he said lowly, his fingers lacing with hers. She smirked.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," she giggled, giddily.

"Alright, that's enough. Time's up," the guard warned, beginning to pull Anna away from Hans' grasp. She reached for him, narrowly placing one last kiss upon his lips, before she was standing once again on the other side of the bars.

"I-I'll see you soon," she shouted through the bars, trying her best to keep herself from breaking into full sobs. Hans stared at her from the cell, his heart heavy, but his face forcing a smile.

"Just get better soon," he replied, as the guard ushered her and his brother away.

* * *

><p>Anna entered her bedroom chamber, wiping away the millionth tear she'd shed in the few minutes it'd taken her to walk from the dungeon to the old wing of the castle. Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks raw. She was so thankful she'd gotten one last stolen moment with Hans before the trial, given the fact that she was uncertain she would get another before his sentencing took affect.<p>

She weakly reached for her doorknob, pushing her bedroom door open and walking inside, unbuttoning her cloak and tossing it aside in a nearby sitting chair. She looked up, startled to see Kristoff sitting in a chair beside her bed, his face melancholy, his shoulders slumped.

"_Oh_," she said, clearly caught off guard. "Hi. Wh-what are you doing here?" she asked, nervously folding her arms around herself, unable to let her eyes meet his. He took in a deep breath; she noticed him timidly wringing his hat in his hands. He shrugged a bit, glancing up at her.

"I came to check on you…see if you were feeling alright," he said stoically. She shifted her weight from one leg to another, writhing under his stare.

"Oh…Thank you. I was just…I was just um…" she stammered, trying to find the right words. He stood, nearing her slowly. She felt herself cower a bit at his presence, the guilt stabbing her like a million knives. He approached her, placing his hand under her chin and forcing her gaze to meet his.

"I think I know where you were," he said. "So you don't have to come up with an excuse," he said quietly. He somberly turned from her, leaning against the window with his back towards her, watching the snow fall and leaving her frozen, her stomach tight.

"You…you _do_?"

"I'm not an _idiot_," he snapped at her. She jumped a bit at the chill in his voice, although she was aware she deserved it. She'd never heard him take this tone with her, with _anyone_. She felt her eyes begin to well with tears once more; she felt awful. The silence was deafening.

"S-say something," she plead, her voice shaky.

"Do you remember the night we met?" he asked, glancing at her over his shoulder. She relaxed a bit with his softer tone.

"Of course," she whispered.

"Do you remember telling me about Hans?"

"You said I was crazy for agreeing to marry a man I just met," she recalled. He turned towards her, his face like stone.

"You showed more passion…more _love_ describing him _to_ me than you ever did _towards_ me. I never really said anything to you about it. Maybe I should have. I remember thinking," he paused, chuckling a bit to keep from wanting to cry. "I remember thinking _I hope someone loves me like that one day_."

"Kristoff-" Anna cried, the tears beginning to freely fall. He wiped an escaped tear away quickly, as to not let it expose his weakness.

"And I thought you could. I _really_ did. I waited for it. I hoped for it. But…" he stopped, shaking his head without completing his thought aloud. His gaze darkened, his face twisting into a frown. "And then I heard you tell Elsa you love him last night." Anna bowed her head, ashamed, her heart more broken than she ever imagined. She _loved_ Kristoff. She did! But he was right. It wasn't the same. And as much as she wanted it to be, she knew it never would be.

"Kristoff, I am so, so sorry," she wept. He neared her once, placing his hand against her cheek, trying to subdue the blatant sadness in his eyes. He was unsuccessful.

"I know you are," he said quietly, sincerely. "You know, I always knew if I was lucky enough to have you, I'd always be second best… in a way, I was always kind of at peace with that. And I guess…I still am." he admitted. She glanced up at him through wet, weepy eyes.

"What?"

"I can be good for you, Anna. Not like him. You know that after tomorrow you'll never see him again, in one way or another. But…I can still be the one you need. I am willing to do that. I love you," he said. "And I know you love me…in your own way. It might not be the passionate, infatuated way you love him, but I _know_ you love me. And I'm willing to go on knowing that you will always have a part of you that wishes that I were him."

"No, Kristoff," Anna said, her brows pulled together in a frown. "That's not fair to you."

"Is any of this, really?" he asked. She didn't answer. "But…if you defend him tomorrow? I can't," he said strongly. "I _won't_." He turned, walking towards her bedroom door. He placed his hand on the doorknob, glancing back at her one last time. "If you protect that criminal, I am done."

* * *

><p>The courtroom was relatively empty, aside from a judge, some witnesses that Hans recognized from Elsa's Coronation and his brothers. Of course they were there to watch his shameful end; how else would it have ended if not in front of the cruel eyes of his own kin?<p>

He stood, somberly, in his Admiral's jacket in the front of the room, watching on sadly as an increasingly weak Anna was walked in between Margeurite and Edvard. It warmed his heart to know that the two people who'd been by his side most the last few months were there for the woman he loved, especially since he could not be.

Elsa was in attendance as well, front row to be exact. Edvard led Anna to a seat beside the Ice Queen. The two shared a brief glance, but seemed to still be on the outs. He sighed, knowing from the look in Elsa's eye that she hadn't softened one bit, and he dreaded the fatal moment when she would take the stand.

A thick, portly lawyer stood on behalf of the prosecution. Hans immediately recognized him as Orville Steinham, the same lawyer his father had entrusted numerous times in his day. He reached down and shuffled his papers, adjusting the golden-framed spectacles on his large, bulbous nose. He cleared his throat, the room growing silent. He glanced up at judge Bjerrum, an equally stout man with a face that seemed intolerant of any shenanigans. Hans gulped, his hands shaking under his white gloves.

"First. That on 13 August, 1848, in the Kingdom of Arendelle, the defendant assembled together with Lars Dupont and conspired to take over the throne of Arendelle," he read. He glanced at Hans, then back to his scroll. "Second. That at the same time and place, the said Hans Westergaard conspired through force and intimidation to unlawfully overthrow the Queen of Arendelle by fraudulent claims against the queen, as advised by said Lars Dupont." Hans bowed his head as he listened to the charges, his pulse racing. "Third. That in further execution of his wicked design, the defendant, by means of intimidation and violence, attempted to execute the Queen of Arendelle under false pretenses. Fourth. That the Defendant in pursuance of his traitorous combination and conspiracy, the defendants failed to represent the Southern Isles in a favorable manner, thusly severing crucial trade ties and breaching the peace treaty between the neighboring kingdoms, affective 1798..."

Orville continued to list the charges as Hans wavered in and out of coherent thoughts.

"The sentence for high treason is death," Orville finally said, wrapping up his opening arguments. Hans was still in shock that the trail had arrived so quickly, let alone that it would be over so soon. It was his trial and his alone, Lars' would come later. He watched on as Lars was the first to take the stand as a witness against him, finally shaven as opposed to his offensively shaggy beard he'd been sporting since his capture.

"Lars Dupont, please state your position to the court."

"Chief Advisor to the Crown of the Southern Isles."

"And how long have you been in said position?"

"Over thirty years," Lars said, calm, cool and collected under the scrutiny. Hans could hardly imagine how he was keeping so composed, considering the fact that Orville had just blatantly stated that the sentence for high treason was death.

"Can you tell us about the events in Arendelle, starting from the beginning?" Orville asked. Lars nodded, leaning forward in his chair.

"Certainly," he cooed, politely. "Prince Hans and I arrived in Arendelle 11 August to attend Queen Elsa's coronation, Hans had been instructed to court and marry the Queen by his father, the late King Elias II. However, it was clear by that evening that she was not of this world." Hans glanced towards Elsa, watching her flinch at Lars' mention of her powers.

"Can you explain?"

"She promptly froze her entire kingdom with her cryokenetic…_capabilities_."

"And what does that mean?"

"Ice!" he shouted, impatiently. He paused, rubbing his temple with his fingers. "She can manipulate and manifest ice. She became upset at Master Westergaard's brash engagement to her younger sister, Princess Anna, and she froze everything, setting off a seemingly-eternal winter."

"Did you and Master Westergaard have plans prior to the ice incident for usurping the throne?"

"It is not uncommon for marriages of convenience to take place, especially ones that would benefit both kingdoms in question," Lars reasoned, waving his hand dismissingly.

"So, Hans had orders from his kingdom to court the Queen of Arendelle?"

"He did. But like a young, naïve fool, he failed, finding himself engaged to the Princess instead."

"So, you two altered your plan, deciding to get the Queen out of the way instead? That way Hans would still have been able to take over rulership?"

"If you want to put it that way, then yes. We saw it as our duty. The Queen was killing her own people, and we saw it as Hans' civic duty to end the winter and save Arendelle from the clutches of the mad Queen," Lars divulged. The room grew cold as Elsa glowered in her seat.

"I give the floor to the defense," Orville stated, sitting back down on the other side of the courtroom. Hans' lawyer, a tall, thin man he'd only met once in his life that went by the name of Rassmussen stood, shooting a worried look at Hans, but trudging forward towards Lars on the stand.

"You are also awaiting trial, is that correct?" Rasmussen asked. Lars nodded, wordlessly. "And what are your charges?"

"The same as Prince Hans'."

"Master Dupont…Can you tell the court what important, political change took place in The Southern Isles just prior to the coronation?" Rassmussen asked, picking up a document off of his table and bringing it towards Lars. He eyed it from his chair, hesitantly. He cleared his throat.

"The Southern Isles became a ceremonial monarchy," he mumbled.

"And what does that mean?" Orville asked.

"It means…the King no longer holds any real power over the Southern Isles."

"Right. And as the late King Elias II's political advisor, you were more than well aware of such a shift in the government, were you not?"

"I _was_," Lars said through gritted teeth. Rassmussen grinned, turning towards the judge, then the witnesses in attendance.

"Master Dupont even said so himself: he'd been the king's most trusted, political advisor for over 30 years. What would a man, a man well known for being able to turn the king's head any way he chooses, do if that power suddenly came to an end? Would he not seek other means to gain some kind of control? And what better way than to encourage a young, inexperienced Prince to take the throne of a neighboring kingdom that doesn't have the same governing restrictions as the Southern Isles?"

"I assure you-' Lars tried to interject, his face beginning to show more panic than before.

"Did you or did you _not_ advise the defendant to kill the Queen?"

"Yes but-"

"And as his superior in matters of the crown, did he not have reason to trust your judgment?" The tall, balding lawyer asked. Lars swallowed, hard. Hans sat back, smiling wryly to himself as he realized just how fantastically wonderful his lawyer was doing.

"Well yes, but-"

"No further questions," Rasmussen said, walking back towards the table and having a seat next to Hans. Hans exhaled, as the judge dismissed a confused and dismayed Lars.

"We would like to call Princess Anna of Arendelle to the stand."

**To Be Continued…**

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><p><strong>AN **

**I had to do a bit of research on this chapter. Fun fact!: Arendelle is presumed to be the Norway. That said, geographically speaking, The Southern Isles is thought to be Denmark. (Which means my story including the voyage from The Southern Isles to Arendelle taking 4 weeks means that they possessed the SLOWEST SHIPS IN THE WORLD hahaha!) **

**Anyways, in other research I did, it is hypothesized that the year that Frozen would have taken place (due to architecture and clothing styles) dates around the late 1840s. **

**Still there? Stay with me. **

**Denmark became a Ceremonial Monarchy in the year 1848, meaning that the Southern Isles would have been going through a HUGE power struggle, leaving King Elias with little to NO power whatsover at the time of Frozen. Lars' motive practically wrote itself. 3 He couldn't manipulate Elias III the way he had grown accustomed. Arendelle (AKA Norway) however, still left executive monarchy to their King or Queen, as it still is today, meaning that Lars would have had more to gain manipulating Hans as a King of Arendelle than he would Elias as a king of the Southern Isles. (*drops mic.)**

**Anyways, I started the trial thinking I could fit it all into one chapter and…Nope. There is too much to write. I should have the next installment up in the next day or two.**

**Leave me some lovin'?**

**Or whatever. **

**XOXO**


	21. The Trial - Part II

**Chapter 20:**

_The Trial - Pt 2_

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><p>And then they called Anna.<p>

Anna timidly took her place on the stand, wringing the handkerchief in her hands nervously. She'd appeared apprehensive as it _was_, but Hans couldn't help but notice and extra _layer_ of nervous; he assumed it was the pressure of the trail, the illness continuing to ravage her and the falling out with her sister. Either way, Hans' heart received a gentle squeeze when he saw her state: worn, weak and tired.

Orville stood, adjusting his tie and nearing the princess with a warm smile on his face. He seemed smug, knowing full-well the incidents that had occurred in Arendelle, about how the princess had been betrayed. In his eyes, this would be simple. The Princess would garner up sympathy from the judge and ultimately wrap up his case against the Prince quite nicely. Princess Anna was also the only witness that Hans had confessed his treasonous plan to, and therefore made her testimony the most important of all.

"Princess Anna, would you be so kind as to explain your… _relationship_… with the defendant, Hans Westergaard?"

"W-we…" she paused, swallowing hard. She glanced out into the small crowd of attending patrons, fixating on their awaiting faces, specifically the three most familiar.

_First_, Elsa - somber and stony, her eyes like ice.

_Next_, Kristoff - melancholy but hopeful, his eyes like the strong, bountiful earth.

_Last_, Hans - admiring and anxious, his eyes like the ocean…ones she could swim in for eternity, if the world were just a _little_ kinder.

"We were engaged for a brief period of time," she replied, staring into Hans' eyes, which now felt like a beacon in the distance calling her home. She felt a smile aching to form on her lips, but didn't dare show on her face. She watched him battle the same sensation. How cruel, for them to be in love at a time like _this_.

"And can you tell us about your engagement to Prince Hans?" he asked.

"I don't _know_," she hesitated, uncomfortably shifting in the wooden, unwelcomingly hard chair as everyone's eyes burned into her. "It was a whirlwind… I-It all happened very fast."

"Did Prince Hans show any signs that he was simply _using_ you and your position to gain the throne of Arendelle?" Her face fell when she heard the question; _now_ he was getting to the 'good' stuff. Anna felt as though she'd been punched in the gut; she hadn't realized just how much emotion would be invoked by simply answering such seemingly simple questions.

But they _weren't_ simple. With each question, she felt as though she were ripping an old wound right open - and _not_ just her own, either. Each question she answered had potentially a damning affect on Hans, the man she loved more than anything. On the other hand, each question she answered painted a picture in Kristoff's mind that he would probably prefer to never know, especially after his ultimatum. And each question she answered drove a stake farther and farther into her sister's heart.

"No, he didn't," Anna responded, curtly. She watched Kristoff flinch, Elsa's eyes narrow, and Orville raise his eyebrows - all presumably taken aback by her less-than-condemning response. "I mean, I _knew_ he was 13th in line in his own kingdom, but I didn't think he was _using_ me," she answered, sincerely.

"You _truly_ thought that a prince who'd confessed that he was 13th in line for a throne, a man you'd only just met hours before, wanted to _marry_ you? And you agreed?" he asked flatly. Anna peered back at him and his condescending face, realizing quickly that she wasn't giving him the answers he was hoping for, the ones that would help put a swift end to the prince.

"Yes," she said, sheepishly, her cheeks growing pink. "He never gave me any indication otherwise," she added, truthfully.

"And when did you realize that was not the case, Princess?" Orville said, his voice laced with obvious frustration at her testimony. Anna didn't answer right away, she stared out at the group of witnesses once more, her eyes darting back and forth between Hans and Kristoff, who each stared back at her with a different, but specific, sense of longing. Both wanted her to tell the truth, but each of them perceived a different version of the truth. She didn't even know what the truth was anymore.

Had there been signs that Hans had only been using her? More than likely.

_I've been searching my whole life to find my own place…_

But all those thoughts and details had been watered down over the course of the last few months, and knowing the context behind Hans' actions, knowing how much he'd beaten himself up over those actions, and knowing how much he'd grown and changed since Arendelle made it hard to live in the past. That wasn't who he was anymore…that wasn't who _she_ was anymore.

"Princess Anna?" he coaxed.

"After he said… that he didn't need me anymore to find his place in the world," she said somberly, her gaze falling to her hands, still rolling the handkerchief around. Hans clenched his jaw, nervously fidgeting with his own hands. "That's when I knew."

"Can you be more _specific_?"

"I don't know what you're asking me," she glowered.

"How was it that he told you that he didn't need you to take over Arendelle?" Orville probed.

"What does this have to do with treason charges, Mr. Steinham?" Anna asked, her eyes narrowed and her tone chilly.

"I believe Hans' _character_ is in question, Princess," Judge Bjerrum clarified. Anna scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"He left me to die. On the floor. _Alone_," she said snapped. "Is that the answer you were looking for, Mr. Steinham? Well, there. You have it. I dying and I needed Hans to save me. He _chose_ not to. Hans looked me in the eyes, told me he didn't love me and that he was going to kill my sister and take her place as King," she sputtered off. Hans' eyes widened at her candor, and his chest ached hearing the details uttered out so crudely. The crowd murmured a bit and Judge Bjerrum banged his gavel a few times to quiet them back down. Orville smiled smugly, turning from her to retire back to his desk.

"No further que-" he began but stopped when he noticed Anna abruptly stand, anger flushing through her veins.

"_Yes_, Mr. Steinham. Hans hurt me. _Badly_. Worse, he hurt the people I love as well," she added, softer, as she gazed at Elsa, who was watching on in silent observation. "And many would find what he did unforgivable, but that is between him and I."

"Princess _Anna_," Judge Bjerrum said in a warning tone. She turned to him, her eyes filled with tears.

"P-please, Judge Bjerrum. I just need to say this," she begged, the desperation in her tone growing. He studied her teary face and pursed his lips together wryly before relenting, giving her a sigh and a slight nod to continue.

"Very well," he grunted. Anna took in a deep breath, smoothing down the front of her wrinkled dress.

"Hans' actions to me and the ones I love are not what are on trial today. He has already been punished for those crimes…but I can assure you all that _nothing_ could punish Hans more than he has already punished _himself_. He is being tried for High Treason against The Southern Isles, as if his actions were intent on destroying his own kingdom. But they were _not_. Yes, they were selfish and self-serving. Yes, the consequences of his actions stalled trade, but those trade negotiations are back on between the kingdoms and relationships have more than been repaired," she said, getting more heated. "But most reflective of his character was _this_: In my and my sister's absence, during a state of emergency in Arendelle, I left him in charge. He fed the hungry. He sheltered the cold. He took care of my kingdom as if it were his own and for _that_ I will always be thankful." she vouched. She shot a cold, definitive look in Hans' brother's direction, specifically honing in on King Elias. "You should be proud that Hans proved to be so capable and competent on behalf of your kingdom. That being said, I do not believe any of the occurrences in Arendelle constitutes as Treason against the Southern Isles."

"And what, may I ask, caused your newfound admiration for your previous fiancé?" Orville asked, although Anna was starting to wonder if it was just curiosity and not anything of value to the case. She sighed. She glanced at Kristoff, now at the edge of his seat, his mouth agape. It pained her, but she couldn't leave him hanging any longer. He knew what was coming, and he couldn't stop her.

And Anna realized she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to.

"We fell in love," she said in almost a whisper. "I love him." With those words, Anna watched as Kristoff's face fall into a look of utter rejection, his head bowed sadly. An involuntary sob erupted from her chest. "And I am begging you to have mercy on him," she cried. "Because I know there is so much more _good_ in him than bad. Because I know what he is like when he loves someone. He is fiercely loyal. He is kind, he is generous. And for how much misery he has endured in his life, he deserves a second chance." Up until the end of her heartfelt plea, she hadn't even realized that the tears were pouring down her cheeks. She searched through her blurry, tear-streaked eyes for the three faces in the crowd.

First, Elsa - softened and empathetic, her eyes like a melting glacier.

Next, Hans - Full of gratitude and love, humbled, his eyes like a calm after a storm.

Last, Kristoff's - Full of pure sadness and defeat, just before he turned and left the courtroom without looking back.

"No more questions," Orville grumbled from his chair, flipping through papers, clearly trying to figure out just how he was going to undo the damage that Anna's testimony had just done for his case.

"I have no questions for the witness," Rasmussen said, a smile on his face. "And I am fairly certain I don't even need a closing argument." Anna got down from the stand silently. She walked in hurried but still weakened steps, propelling herself towards Elsa for comfort, slightly surprised to be welcomed by Elsa's extended and loving arms, pulling her in for an embrace. She held onto her sister, silently weeping into her chest. Elsa smoothed down her broken sister's hair, pulling her close and sitting her down beside her, draping her arm around her.

"The next witness…" Orville stated, glancing down at a piece of paper, adjusting his glasses, "…is Queen Elsa of Ar-"

"_No_," Elsa said definitively from her seat.

"But-" Orville began to interject, shot down immediately by Elsa's glare.

"No, I will not be testifying against Prince Hans. My sister is right. He has already been punished for his crimes against her and I. I will not be a part of your vendetta against him," she said, specifically eyeing King Elias, who'd sat silently observing in the back of the room the entire time. "He is your _family_," she spat at Elias, scoldingly, still clutching her sister to her side, comforting her. Hans shot the queen a grateful glance, even though Elsa still couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye.

"Well, that's fine then," Orville shrugged. "I still have one more witness to call, if I may," he smirked, looking quite satisfied with himself. The crowd rustled, looking around the room to see who it was. It didn't appear there was anyone else in attendance who'd agreed to testify, neither for _or_ against Hans. Hans glanced around the room curiously, feeling suddenly very unsure of what was about to transpire. "I call Dr. Edm nd Svedsen to the stand," he said, loudly, and all the color drained from Hans' face.

The guards opened the door to the courtroom, and the doctor appeared, his beady eyes fixated upon the floor, his brown, leather briefcase in his hand. He took small, quick steps, his gaze nervously trailing to Hans' confused face, then back to the ground. He took his seat, trying his best not to make eye contact with the prince. Hans' stomach sank as he thought about the last time he'd seen the doctor, about how horribly he'd acted in his moments of desperation. Surely, Dr. Svedsen knew that was a temporary lapse of judgment, that it wasn't how Hans had been _all_ the time.

"Please state your name and position for the court," Orville ordered. Svedsen coughed and cleared his throat, uneasily.

"My name is Dr. Edmünd Svedsen, I am a doctor in psychotherapy… specifically ailments of the mind."

"You sound like a very busy man. I don't want to waste your time, Dr. Svedsen, so we'll get right down to business. How long have you been meeting with Prince Hans Westergaard?"

"It has been about four months at this time, twice a week."

"And in your professional opinion, as expressed from the defendant himself in your sessions, would you classify his actions in Arendelle as nefarious?" Svedsen glanced at Hans nervously, Hans back at him terrified. Hans' heartbeat raced, his palms sweaty. He had never imagined that anything he'd said to the doctor in their sessions would have any kind of bearing on his fate, and now her realized he very well may have damned himself.

"I am not sure I understand the question," Dr. Svedsen said coolly, reaching down and taking a quick sip off of a glass of water near the stand. Orville nodded.

"Excuse me. Let me rephrase that. In your sessions, did Hans divulge to you his motives behind his actions in Arendelle?"

"Yes, he did."

"And those were?"

"He was under a delusion that Princess Anna was unfaithful to him, which he later realized was unfounded. He was also trying to fill a void inside of himself, seemingly caused by rejection and emotional abuse caused by his family growing up, making his overthrowing of Elsa seem…" he paused, searching for the right words. "Seem of the utmost importance." Hans could feel all the eyes on him in the courtroom; it was almost embarrassing, to have his most intimate fears and feelings out on display, for all to see. He slouched a bit in his chair, wishing he could just disappear. He could only imagine how pathetic he sounded to all of them, especially his brothers.

"So again I ask, in your professional opinion, would you classify his actions nefarious? Treasonous, even?" Dr. Svedsen looked at Hans, taking in a deep breath and exhaling a morose sigh.

"No, as a matter of fact I do _not_," Dr. Svedsen said, earnestly. Hans released a sigh of relief; perhaps Svedsen would come to his aid after all.

"_Interesting_," Orville mused. "Then what, Dr. Svedsen, is your professional diagnosis of your patient, the defendant?"

"My sessions with Prince Hans garnered very little results, I regret to say…. He has displayed traits of narcissism, sociopathic tendencies, paranoia, mania… He was indeed vulnerable, and I have no doubts that Lars DuPont not only manipulated him, but used him as a pawn to do his bidding. However…while I do not believe that his actions in Arendelle were necessarily deemed worthy a sentence of High Treason…it is my professional and medical opinion that Hans is not fit to be out in the general public," he said solemnly.

"_What_!?" Hans shouted, besides himself.

"_No_," Anna breathed, her jaw dropping. She gripped onto an equally surprised Elsa. The crowd began to react, both gasping and whispering sharply to one another. Hans sat dumbfounded, his mouth agape as he stared at the doctor with a look of utter betrayal. Judge Bjerrum slammed down his gavel, attempting to call order to the court.

"And what is your recommended treatment for Hans' mental state?" Orville asked loudly over the ruckus.

"Given my most recent interaction with the Prince and his violent temper, not to mention his past history of attempted violence on Queen Elsa, I deem him a threat to society… and also a threat to himself. If it were _my_ decision, I'd determine that Hans would benefit from institutionalization at the Southern Isles Sanitarium," he uttered. "There he can receive the proper therapies and treatments to rid him of these…_demons_."

"I'm _not_ insane!" Hans shouted desperately. He slammed his hand down upon the desk in front of him, standing and looking around the room in a panic. "Dr. Svedsen, you _know_ I'm not insane!" Hans yelled out.

"Silence!" Judge Bjerrum bellowed, frustration written all over his face. Hans looked at Anna, her pained expression searing though him.

"You can't lock me up, I'm not _mad_!"

"That is _enough_, Prince Hans!" Judge Bjerrum called out one last time, cautioning.

"Why?!" Hans yelled, his eyes burning into the doctor, who sad uncomfortably on the stand. "Why did you do this to me?" Judge Bjerrum stood, slamming his gavel down louder than ever, the whole courtroom staring back at him, startled into silence. The round, red-faced judge glowered at the room, seething.

"This case is coming to a close, I have had enough of this circus in my courtroom!" he hollered, his booming voice echoing off the walls. Hans gulped, slowly sinking back into his seat. "Based on the insanity that has taken place in this courtroom today, I have decided to agree with Dr. Svedsen's recommendation. Hans, you will be institutionalized at the Southern Isles Sanitarium _indefinitely_."

"But-" Hans choked.

"I am not finished!" the proud judge screamed, furiously. "You are a menace to society and I will not stand to see you out in the world, capable of such deplorable acts against others. Be grateful that this is your sentencing and not the gallows, Master Hans. Perhaps that gratitude will help you regain your sense of sanity," he slammed down his gavel. "Take him away," he ordered, coldly.

"_No_!" Anna cried out painfully, reaching her arm out towards him. He shrunk as the guards neared, surrounding him. Elsa held her flailing sister back, trying her best to subdue her; Anna was inconsolable. The guards took hold of Hans roughly, leading him towards the exit and past the crowd. He watched helplessly as Anna collapsed to the ground.

"_Anna_!" he called out as he watched the crowd gasping and surrounding her, the doors to the courtroom shutting behind him, her devastated face the last of her he would ever see.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hans<em>?" Anna groaned, her eyes fluttering open slowly. The first thing she saw was the now-familiar dark green canopy of the bed. She felt like she was being weighed down by stones, barely able to move her head to the side to look at her surroundings. She weakly moved her arm, pulling the cloth from her forehead. Everything was foggy, her memory jumbled as though she'd just awoken from a dream.

_Had she?_

Then, _oh_…she remembered. The trial. The sentencing. She suddenly rolled to her side, violently expelling her stomach contents into her washbasin. Her whole body ached, she was both hot and cold at the same time, covered in sweat and chills. Although she'd been sick for weeks now, it had never been like this. She lazily brought the back of her hand to her bottom lip, wiping the residual vomit from her chin. She hovered a bit, unsure if she was going to overcome her second wave of nausea, when she felt a comforting hand running along her back.

She tightly squeezed her eyes shut, allowing herself one lingering moment to pretend like it was Hans' hand on her back, even though she knew better. She opened her eyes and looked up through tussled red hair to see her companion, blue eyes meeting her own.

"It's going to be okay," Elsa said soothingly, trying to force a smile through her clear and blatant apprehension. "I'm here." Anna slowly rolled over onto her back, wiping her face with the cool rag. Elsa took the rag from her hand and then the washbasin, moving it away from the bed. She glanced at her sister, her eyebrows pulled down with worry.

"Where's…where's Hans?" she croaked. Elsa's eyes saddened even more as she stared down at her hands.

"The Southern Hills Sanitarium, I imagine," she sighed sadly. She reached up and placed her cool hand against Anna's burning forehead, closing her eyes as her hand got colder and colder, like a personal ice pack. Anna stared back at her sister, suddenly incredibly grateful she was there. Anna realized she didn't know what she would have done if Hans had been carted away with no one to turn to.

"Elsa, I'm sorry," she whispered, her misty eyes tracing the soft curvatures of her sister's lovely face. "I never meant to fall-"

"_Shh_," Elsa comforted. "I _know_. You don't have to apologize," she added. "It is me that should be sorry. I seem to have a hard time listening to you when you need me to the most," she admitted. "Everything I do is out of love, though, Anna. And Hans-"

"I _know_," Anna said nodding meekly, the sisters mirroring one another. "I can't believe he's gone," Anna said before she hiccupped back a sob, her face twisting into painful despair. Elsa leaned down, holding onto and embracing her heartbroken baby sister. When Anna's heart hurt, Elsa's heart hurt, even if it were over someone like Hans Westergaard. Elsa soon found herself brimming with tears as well, wishing that she could rid Anna of the heart ache and the sickness…to just help her be healthy and whole again.

Anna's face found the crook of her sister's neck. She sniffled, gripping Elsa painfully as she cried. She uttered into Elsa's ear,

"I never even got to say goodbye,"

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

** …My apologies for all the sadness, guys. I am **_**trying**_** to get to that happy ending I've promised you all, but as you can tell from the mess these lovers have gotten themselves into, there are a lot of loose ends to wrap up, and I have NEVER been one to believe in cutting corners to get there. I like my stories to have a sense of realism to them. Have you ever seen a movie or read a book where everything is awry and then POOF! All better without even a slight climax? I'm sure you have. **

**I'm rambling. **

**And already half done with the next chapter, so that will be up ASAP.**

**And considering continuing this into a Part III…we'll see.**

**Um, some special thanks to my awesome reviewers, (I THINK you know who you are! And also Kionkichin for totally recommending me on Tumblr with some sweet artwork! That was rad and totally made my day. Yous guys are da bestests.) **

**Be sure to check out Enula's **_**Blank Spaces in Our Tragedy**_**. It's the beginning of a ****very**** promising troll theory Hanna story, and I am super stoked about it. **


	22. Goodbye My Lover

**Chapter 21:**

_Goodbye My Lover_

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><p>"I thought you left," Anna said quietly as she blinked restless sleep from her heavy eyelids. She turned her head towards the slumped and shadowed silhouette over in a chair beside her sickbed. Even in the darkness, Kristoff was unmistakable. He looked defeated, exhausted. He had the face of a man who'd been riddled with worry and sorrow for too long, and she hated that she knew that she was the cause of his angst.<p>

The room was dark, and she wasn't sure if it was late evening or early morning anymore. The hours and days seemed to be bleeding together lately, and her broken heart made her even more apathetic about getting better at all.

Fleetingly, his earth-bound eyes found hers, a weak, almost unnoticeable smile on his lips. The way he looked at her…the love was still present. She reckoned it would always be.

But it _was_ different.

It was reminiscent to how his face looked when he had to give her up the first time, hand her off to Kai and the others to usher her in to her _real_ true love. He was always in a perpetual state of letting her go.

"I was _going _to," he responded, his tone mild. Softer than she'd last heard it. "I probably should have." He fidgeted with a fringe on his sleeve, anything to distract him looking at her in her deplorable state. The color from her typically vibrant face had vanished, her eyes dull and listless. The smile she wore most of the time was traded in for a look of complacent apathy.

_ No_, this wasn't Anna, the woman he'd fallen in love with.

This was a woman who'd lost it all…a woman who'd given up.

And for what? For _him_? He shook the thought away. He knew that if everything had happened in Arendelle the way it was supposed to, Anna would be married to Hans by now, more than likely a child on the way. Hans was her true love, and he'd really hoped that he could change that, but the way her fight had disappeared in her, he knew this was a woman barely hanging on, as though she had nothing left to grip onto.

"Why didn't you?" she finally spoke again, her sentence staggered and breathy. He felt the corner of his mouth pull, trying to come up with a decent response.

"Because…I might not be your true love, but I am still your friend," he said simply, as though it were the easiest decision in the world. She reached for him, her delicate but lazy hand barely grazing his kneecap. She closed her eyes, swallowing hard, and feeling a smile actually creep across her lips.

The first one in a while.

"You are," she confirmed, more as a question, but definitely knowing the answer. She opened her eyes and sighed. "Kristoff, I never wanted to hurt you, I swear," she attempted weakly. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

"I know, Anna. You don't have a vindictive bone in your body," he chuckled slightly. "You're sure though? _Him_?" he feigned disgust, with a pained smile across his face, a smile for her benefit, even though it stung still. "Hans Westergaard, with his perfect hair, ridiculous sideburns and impeccable posture? _That's_ who you want?" She laughed, comforted by his now-lightened presence. She'd missed _this_ man, for quite some time, now. His ability to make her laugh and keep things on the surface. He was such a shift from the complicated and dark prince. Part of her wished she could love him like she loved Hans, but it didn't matter. She knew she didn't, he knew she didn't, and she also knew that Kristoff deserved to have someone love him like she loved Hans; fully and unadulterated, like the limitless, bountiful sky.

"Sideburns and all," she said between light chuckles. "I've missed you." He nodded in agreement, without even having to say the words.

"You…don't have to explain yourself to me. I know that the heart wants what it wants," he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "But please, answer me this one question: did you ever love me?" She opened her mouth to speak, just to be cut off by Kristoff standing abruptly. "Never mind," he conceded, pacing awkwardly for a bit. "I-I don't need you to answer that." He neared her, leaning down and taking her limp hand in his. "I already know the answer. I know you loved me."

"Love," she corrected, bringing the tense to current. "I love you Kristoff, very, _very_ much," she admitted. "It's just a different kind of love." He nodded once more, although he seemed comforted by her words rather than deterred.

"Ha," he choked. "That's almost worse," he added, staring into her blue eyes. He regretted the fact that he'd never get another opportunity to look into them the way he wanted, filled with love and promise. But it pained him even more to see her fading, to know that pretty soon, no one would look into her eyes.

_ What a waste._

He sighed once again, tugging at his pocket apprehensively. "That's…not the only reason I stayed," he confessed, nervously. He slipped his hand into his pocket to retrieve a folded piece of paper. He twisted it in his hands for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to hand it over to her, before he jutted his hand towards her. She stared at it quizzically, running her fingertips across it.

"Wh-what is this?" she mused, taking it in her hands. She was unsure whether she wanted to open it based on his clear torment he was enduring even just handing it to her. He was silent for a moment, before he let out a pained breath, like coming up for air after being submerged for too long.

"It's…from Hans," he blurted. _Oh_, how he wished that the mere mention of his name didn't make her eyes light up the way that they did, but it also delighted him to see a spark of…_something_. Anything other than the broken rag doll in front of him.

"What?"

"Before…before the trail. After I talked to you…I went down to see him," he admitted, sheepishly. She didn't respond, simply stared onward, holding the paper in her fingers like a sacred artifact. Her eyes welled, whether she wanted them to or not, in quiet contemplation of what exactly she was holding. "I went down there to give him a piece of my mind…tell him to let you go, so that you didn't end up going down with the ship. But…"

_"But?"_

"But it was clear the guy didn't have a choice in the matter. He _does_ love you, Anna. And I-I didn't want to believe it," he paused, staring into the air a scoffing a bit. "I guess I still don't. Because I can't imagine him hurting you the way he did if he loved you like he claims that he does. Then I thought about it for a while, and I realized that…maybe he didn't love you _then_, when he did those horrible things. But he does _now_. And I saw a bit of myself in his eyes, to be honest; loving something he knows he can't have," he divulged, his tone pained but still light, optimistic. He knelt beside her, taking one of her hands again and staring seriously into her face. "I knew then that you were going to defend him. Even though I hoped for a different outcome, I knew…by the look in his eyes, the way he begged me to take care of you after he was gone…I knew that he loved you."

"I-I don't-" she stammered, choking down a sob. She furrowed her brow, staring down at the paper in her hands, tears beginning to roll down her face. "What is this?" she asked, too terrified to open the letter. He shrugged a bit.

"I didn't read it," he confessed. Anna ran her fingertips along the top of the paper, opening it slowly. She wanted to relish in what was to be his final words to her, but that thought alone made it even more bittersweet.

This was the last of him.

_ My Dearest Anna,_

_ If you're reading this, I am no longer with you, be it through distance or through death. I pray that whatever the case, you know that leaving your side was the hardest and worst thing I've endured in this God-forsaken life of mine. _

_ I don't know whether you will get this letter, but I am writing it in the event that I never have the chance to hold you in my arms again, a place that seems empty without you, a place where I know you truly belong. _

_ I want to tell you that I am so sorry that I ever hurt you, and although the past has been forgiven, that I will inevitably hurt you again by having to leave you alone in this world. I leave you this simple letter to remember me by._

_ I hope you get better, Anna. I hope you live to be an old grandmother with dozens of grandchildren to tell your stories to and share your endless love with. I hope that you love again, and that you don't waste too many tears on the likes of me. I want you to go on, Anna. I want you to live, and I mean really live. I want you to travel, to live life with the zest and ferocity that only you can. I hope you find a man that loves you as much as I have loved you, maybe even more, and I pray you love him without limits. _

_ I hope you remember me, remember my love for you, and know that if I had any kind of power, I'd be the one giving you the life that I can only wish for you now. _

_ You saved my life, Anna. You are and will always be the best thing to ever happen to me. You taught me to love, you taught me to live. You made me realize what is truly important in this world; not a crown nor a throne would ever bring to me the same amount of happiness or honor that simply knowing and loving you has. _

_ I will always love you, and I promise you I will see you again one day. Perhaps not in this life, perhaps not even the next, but one day, I will see you again._

_ I love you, Anna. _

_ Yours...always yours,_

_ Hans_

Anna put the letter down, catching her breath and clutching it over her aching heart. She took a moment to let the words sink in, then pulled it away to reread it over again, her eyes darting over the words with a thirst for more, wishing so badly there was something she'd missed, but each time she read it, it remained the same. She felt her chest heave, her breathing increase, but the tears would not come.

There were no more left to cry, anymore. She'd spent days in and out of consciousness, wishing that she could just fall back into her blissful sleep every time she awoke and rediscovered that the trial had been real, that he was gone.

"A-are you okay?" Kristoff asked. She glanced up at him, a bit startled; she'd forgotten he'd even still been standing there. She nodded solemnly, folding the letter back in half and holding it to her heart once more, where she presumed it would stay for some time. "Good," Kristoff smiled.

"Where's Elsa?" Anna asked, looking around the room and suddenly noticing her sister's absence. During the last few days, Elsa had hardly left her side.

"I'm not sure; would you like me to go get here?" he offered.

"No, that's alright. Wherever she is, I'm sure it's important."

* * *

><p>"I'm afraid my hands are tied, your majesty," King Elias sighed, although given his cold behavior at the trial, Elsa couldn't help but notice an obvious lack of sincerity in his voice. He sat at his desk, thumbing over papers and maps, looking busy. Elsa stood close to the door, trying to figure out what she was doing there in the first place. She narrowed her eyes, folding her arms across her chest.<p>

"What do you mean your hands are tied? You're the King-"

"I am sure word hasn't gotten back to you folks at Arendelle about the change in our government, has it?" King Elias said, his tone snappier than before. "I don't have the power to veto the judge's decision, not as you would in Arendelle," he paused, staring up at her determined stare. He scoffed under his breath, looking back down at his business. "Besides, what do you care? I would think of all people you'd be ecstatic to see him locked in a loony bin and away from your darling, precious sister. Hmm?"

"My feelings on the situation mean nothing. The fact is, this sentencing is hurting my sister-"

"Your sister," he scoffed again, adding an offensive eye roll. "_Please_. I mean no disrespect, but we can't all go around breaking laws and letting criminals loose because your sister has a weak spot for one. What kind of world would this be if we could? Madness, I tell you."

"You know he doesn't belong in an asylum, King Elias," Elsa sneered, nearing him, "your brother is a lot of things, but crazy he is not. Manipulatable? Yes. Egotistical? Oh, _God_ yes. But insane? No, you know as well as I do that doctor was wrong to send him there," Elsa said, passionately. "I don't like him, and clearly you don't either, but my _sister_ loves him. And every moment she is awake she cries for him, and every moment she is asleep she calls for him. I don't think she has a lot of time left, and I want her to get to say goodbye, so _what_ are we going to do about this?"

King Elias turned to look at the Queen, her posture tall and definite. He stared her down, waiting to see her shrink down at his intimidating presence. Her eye contact wavered for a moment before the room went cold, so much so that his startled breath manifested before him in a puffy, white cloud. Her eyes narrowed, and the king could swear he heard the faint sound of ice cracking.

He swallowed, realizing that he hadn't truly seen what this woman was capable of, but he'd heard well enough, and clearly she was ready and willing to show him. He glanced out the window, noticing that the faint snowflakes had tripled in volume, coming down in waves outside; the fire in the fireplace began to suffocate, snuffing out in front of him.

"May I remind you, King Elias," Elsa glowered, her voice calm and cool, "that I have yet to sign any renegotiation treaties with you as of yet." She paused, glancing out the window. "And it does look like it's getting quite cold outside…I hope your kingdom is prepared for such a harsh snowstorm without assistance from a neighboring kingdom," she threatened. He sighed heavily, knowing that she'd called his number. He ran an exasperated hand through this thick, dark hair and threw his compass down on the desk with a light _clack_.

"What do you _want_ me to do? I've told you that there is nothing I can do about this."

"Tell me what I need to do to get him out in time to say goodbye to my sister," she demanded. He quietly thought, making no indication on his face whether he was willing to take her offer just yet. A wry smile crossed his face, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits.

"I will help you on one condition," he purred. She paused, taken aback by his suspicious change. Her face softened into a look of slight nervousness.

"Wh-what is it?" she asked, trying her best to keep her voice from shaking, giving away her weakness.

"_If_ you succeed at getting Hans out of the sanitarium, I will personally see that his punishment be lowered from labor camp or even death to exile. He will be stripped of his title as prince, and boarded on the next ship to Arendelle. I will be holding you personally responsible for him since it is you asking for his freedom," he said. Elsa nearly choked on the breath she was taking, but again tried her best to not let the panic appear on her face.

"You can do all of that but you can't just have him released?" Queen Elsa replied flatly, growing increasingly irritated by the king's mind games. She was in a room with him for only a few moments and she already felt like she was going mad; she couldn't imagine how Hans had done it all those years.

"I can do a lot of things still, if I am so moved to. I may not be able to personally release him, but I can give my recommendation to the judge. Judge Bjerrum and I are old friends; let's just say that Hans was lucky that he took pity on him, given what I'd instructed him to do with the nuisance."

"You really are despicable, you know that?" Elsa glared. "No wonder your brother ended up so rotten. At least it appears that he has something in him that is redeemable, unlike you," she spat. "I will take your offer," she said decidedly, extending her hand, even if it shook ever so slightly. Did she want to have to babysit Hans for the rest of his life? Of course not. Hans was still the last person on earth she'd want to associate with, but for her sister, she'd do anything. Elias took her hand and shook it, clearly surprised at the coldness emitting from it. He pulled his hand back, wiping it on his cloak as though what she had was catching.

"You'd better hurry though," he said, suppressing a chuckle. "I hear he'd scheduled for a lobotomy tomorrow morning."

* * *

><p>Hans watched on bleakly as the clock ticked in the corner of the common room.<p>

The most interesting part about the Southern Hills Sanitarium was that it was grey. The inside. The outside. The furniture. The walls. The fixtures. The bedding. The floors. The ceilings. Everything from top to bottom were different shades of grey.

Fifty-six. He'd counted. There were fifty-six different shades of grey that he'd found thus far, without the shade repeating.

_ Tick tock, tick tock. _

Time moved slow and fast all at the same time. It didn't have numbers like it used to, though. There was no more 8 o'clock, 1 o'clock, noon or midnight. Time was now a different language.

Morning time. Breakfast time. Shower time. Leisure time. Study time. Quiet time. Medicine time. Lunch time. Courtyard time. Doctor time. Talking time. Dinner time. Game time. Bed time. Repeat.

And sometimes not even in that order.

But he was just trying to keep his thoughts as coherent as possible. When he'd first gotten there, he'd taken the tonics and pills allotted to him each morning, but soon realized they made him dazed, confused. He didn't need them. He wasn't like the other fools in this place, screaming and drooling on themselves in corners.

_ NO_.

He could be crazy sometimes, driven to a brink, but he was not insane.

_ I don't belong here, I don't belong here. _

The hardest part, he'd found, was trying not to let the hate creep back into his heart. He wanted to hate his brother, that schmuck of a judge…the lawyer…but he knew he had no reason to. Mostly, he wanted to hate Dr. Svedsen, the man who put him here.

This place truly was torture. It was dirty, cold…most of the 'patients' (which he viewed more as prisoners than anything else) weren't cared for. They were filthy and underfed, a world forgotten. He'd realized quickly that these poor people were carted off behind these grey stone walls to be out of the public eye, ushered away from polite society so that the people of the kingdom could ignore them, pretend they didn't exist.

Hans was blessed to be fully capable of caring for himself, as he'd seen grown men covered in their own bodily fluids, rocking themselves for comfort in a dark corner, hardly looked at twice by the overworked and exhausted medical staff. He was fairly certain that if he'd ever tasted freedom once more, he'd still never get the smell of the God-forsaken place from his nose.

_ Almost lunch time._

His stomach churned, begging for sustenance, but he was terrified of what gruel would be slopped before him today. Usually it was some disembodied mush, with a faint taste of salt, a biscuit. He missed Marguerite's cooking more than he could fathom, or just a warm bed and a meal served hot for once would be nice.

_ Had it really only been a couple of days?_

"Hans Westergaard, you need to come with me," an orderly instructed, nearing him slowly, as if approaching a rabid dog.

"What? Why? It's almost lunch time," Hans responded. Everything that happened here terrified him, in a way. The slight change in routine could mean anything. He'd heard rumors about electrical treatments, something new in the psychiatric world. He'd heard, but never really seen anything.

"You have to speak with the doctor," he responded, coming another step forward and reaching for Hans' arm. Hans jerked it away, taking a step back from the orderly.

"It's not time to speak with my doctor now," he corrected, suspiciously.

"Do you want to do this the easy or hard way?" the orderly growled, pulling out the shackles Hans had grown to hate. He gulped, submitting quickly. Last time they had to use the shackles he'd also received a lashing and no dinner.

_ Like a disobedient animal._

He relented, standing up straight and walking towards the orderly to show his change in attitude, who then turned and led Hans out of the common room and down a long, grey (#45), hallway. He passed the grey (#34) doors on each side of him, trying to ignore the muffled cries of the mad as he passed by their rooms.

The orderly led him to the last room on the right, which wasn't his normal doctor's office he'd became accustomed to. He wasn't sure what the room was used for, but instead of the cold, clinical, metal furniture he'd gotten used to around the hospital, he was welcomed by a plush white sofa, a roaring fireplace and a warm, wooden desk. He glanced around the room curiously, eyeing a painting of a couple by a lake over the fireplace. It was the first sense of real life he'd experienced since he'd gotten there, and simply knowing there was a room like this (a room with carpet, no less) in the sanitarium brought him a sense of humbled joy that he couldn't express.

"Have a seat, your doctor will be here shortly," the orderly said, shutting the door behind him on his way out. Hans turned to face the sofa, so happy to see cushions and pillows he could cry if he wasn't so emotionally stunted at this point. More enticing, however, was that roaring fire. He hurried towards it, pulling his achingly cold hands out and rubbing them in front of the flame.

As Hans sat there, watching the flames engulf the logs in the fireplace, he felt like he'd had the first moment alone with his thoughts in forever. He instantly missed Anna; the fire itself reminded him of her, not just in vibrancy and color but the warmth and the energy. His heart ached painfully in his chest as he thought about her, about her health. Not a moment went by where he didn't worry about her and how sick she was when he left her, the look on her weak and pained face as she fell to the ground at his sentencing.

Hans glanced up as he heard the door creak open, Dr. Svedsen coming into view.

"_You_," he glowered, standing slowly. "What are you doing here?" he said, attempting to keep his voice cold and curt.

"Hello, Hans," he greeted timidly. "I am sure you're not exactly excited to see me," he began. Hans didn't correct him, even though in all honesty he wanted nothing more that to run and embrace the doctor, since it'd seemed like forever since he'd seen a familiar face. "I am here to discuss what happened at your trial," he said slowly. Hans expected him to take his usual place behind a desk, but instead neared the couch, lowering himself onto it.

"About how you betrayed me?" Hans asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Hans, my medical opinion of you was not a _betrayal_," Svedsen corrected along with a sigh. He took off his glasses, cleaning them with a handkerchief from his top left pocket. "Full disclosure, I knew going in there that you were destined to meet with the executioner that night. Elias had it set in Judge Bjerrum's mind that you were a dangerous, manipulative, blood-thirsty criminal, and his prosecution was doing a well enough job trying to paint you in that light," he explained. Hans took the seat beside Svedsen, listening more intently than before.

"So, you told them I was crazy to get me sent here instead," Hans said, understanding.

"I was not aware that Princess Anna had given such an enduring plea on your behalf. I have no doubts that her testimony may not have gotten you off the hook, though. But paired with my professional opinion, we were able to get you placed here, until I could take the proper channels of getting you out."

"You saved my life," Hans whispered, his brows furrowed. He'd wanted, so badly, to hate Svedsen for what he'd said on that stand, but it was all for him. He had no doubts now that his brother would have found a way to put a noose around his neck. It was hard knowing the way politics work when you're on the wrong side of the law, knowing that the people who want you dead carry the judges in their pockets for their own disposal. "I don't know how I will ever be able to repay you," Hans said, soberly. Dr. Svedsen smiled, a tight but warm smile.

"Your beautiful princess helped," he said, slighting the glory over to Anna. Hans' eyes widened at the mention of her name; it felt like forever since it'd been uttered aloud.

"Anna!" he exclaimed. "How is she? Is she-" he paused, refusing to finish the end of that horrific sentence. "A-and when can I get out of here?" he added. Dr. Svedsen's eyes grew somber, and he realized another sigh, this one heavier than the last.

"She's taken a turn for the worst," a voice called from the open doorway. Hans froze, noticing instantly that room had gotten colder, if that were even possible in his horrible hospital. He knew that voice, although it was the last he'd ever thought he'd hear again. He turned, reluctantly, to face the disembodied voice.

Elsa stood, her arms hugged around herself, but she didn't look as nervous as he'd been used to seeing her. No, she looked sad but determined. Down to business. He stood, bowing towards her slightly.

"Your majesty," he greeted, years of princely conditioning still hard-wired into him. She didn't acknowledge him, simply took a few steps into the room, nearing the fireplace.

"She's hardly conscious anymore. The doctors have given up…it appears she has, too," she said, her eyes meeting his for seemingly the first time. "I underestimated your love for her, although I doubt you can blame me. But worse is that I underestimated her love for you, and that is what is ultimately killing her," she went on to explain. Hans stared at her, still in disbelief that she was even here. "She calls out for you in her sleep, you know." Hans swallowed hard, trying his best to keep from getting too emotional, imagining her in such a state of despair.

"Well, I'm sure Kristoff-" he began, quietly.

"Kristoff is leaving," Elsa said, sternly. "He'd told her before the trial that if she defended you, he would know her answer. And we were all there, we all heard her testimony," she said, her words trailing off as she glanced back down at the dancing flames, reflecting in her blue eyes like flickering ice.

"What?" he breathed, realizing that Anna had made her choice, even if it meant losing both of them.

"She told him that her heart belonged to someone else," she said quietly, "although, I suspect he already knew that."

"How much longer does she have?" Hans asked, nearing the queen as the realization of what she was telling him finally came into focus.

She was not just sick anymore. She was dying.

"They don't know," she choked. "Days? Hours? She doesn't have long."

"You should be there with her," Hans said, his eyes wide. "She can't die alone, Elsa," he realized, instantly, the irony behind his words. Had he not left her to die alone once?

"So should you," she said, turning towards him, her eyes intense and tearful.

"What? How?"

"Bringing my sister joy in her final hours is the single most important thing to me…and if that means seeing you, then…so be it," she said meekly. Hans stood before her, his mouth agape.

"There is a catch, however, and I don't think you're going to like it," Elsa warned. "Your brother has denounced you and you are my sole responsibility. I have therefore commissioned you to becoming Admiral of the Fleet of Arendelle. You've been stripped of your title as Prince and exiled from The Southern Isles…" she said, watching Hans' shocked face twist into sadness, then acceptance. She lowered herself to his gaze. "I suspect there is worse punishment than this, however?" He closed his mouth, mulling over the wide array of information she'd spouted off at him.

_ Yes. There is worse punishment that that. _

He nodded, his face serious.

"A life without Anna is the worse punishment I could ever receive," he said, knowing that it would happening whether he was there or not. At least now he got to say goodbye, and he would trade a million crowns to see her face one last time.

Elsa nodded, the direness of the situation settling back in again. She leaned in towards him, her voice quiet but determined.

"I've had Judge Bjerrum order your release, Dr. Svedsen came to file the paperwork. However, they said it could take a few days," Elsa said worriedly.

"We don't have that kind of time," Hans said, the panic setting in.

"I _know_," Elsa hissed. "Which is why we are going to have to bust you out of here," she said, a glowing ball of frost manifesting above her palm.

"Are you going to shoot someone with that thing?" he asked, his eyes nervously watching the ball of icy energy bob in her hand. She rolled her eyes.

"Not someone, but something," she said. She pointed to Dr. Svedsen. "Have you signed the release papers yet?" she asked. He nodded. She turned to Hans. "You better get ready to run," she warned. "Now, stand back."

Elsa took in a sharp breath, the ball growing to a stone, the stone to a rock, the rock to a boulder. Hans watched in awe as the bright energy emitted by the queen turned the whole room blue, glowing. He shook away the hypnotizing affect of watching her, bracing himself. With one swift movement, Elsa hurled the ball forward, instantly taking out a huge hole in the backside of the wall.

The hospital shook a bit, the blast nearly deafening. They had no time to recover, however, before Elsa had a hold of Hans' hand, rushing him out of the back of the building and out into the snow-covered field.

"Run!" Elsa yelled, desperately sprinting through the snow, Hans right behind her, as they hurried towards the horses she'd had waiting at a neighboring barn to get back to Anna before time ran out.

* * *

><p>Hans and Elsa navigated the hallways of the castle feverishly, Hans' mind in such a state of panic that he'd almost forgot his way around more than once. He was forever grateful to Elsa for putting her own feelings aside to get him out of the asylum, even knowing that he was now her burden.<p>

He pulled his jacket on as he ran, managing to change out of his patient's uniform and run at he same time, which was a new talent he wasn't even aware he'd had.

Finally, they made it to her chamber door, panting wildly. Elsa turned towards him, trying to gain control of herself, unsure what they'd be walking into. Would it have all been for nothing? The thought crossed both of their minds, perhaps more than once.

Elsa watched intently as Hans' hand found the doorknob, opening the door quietly. He took a few steps in, his eyes searching for her in the bed, as she should be.

As she was.

She was white. Not pale, not sickly, but white. As though there was no more life left in her at all. She was thin, gaunt, even more so than the last time he'd seen her, when he thought she'd looked her frailest. He caught his breath, feeling as though he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him. He glanced back at Elsa, nervously, looking for some kind of clearance to go to her. She nodded, her eyes filled with tears as she gazed over at her sister, seeing her condition as clearly as Hans.

He stepped towards her, he'd run to her if he could remember how. He was terrified of nearing her and realizing that she was already gone. He studied her chest, gently still heaving, albeit shallow, pained breaths. He stood tall, remembering what he was there to do, no matter how much he wanted to lay in the bed and die right along beside her.

He kept his composure as he knelt beside her, taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze, his vision on her blurry amidst the tears. He'd not cried too many times in his life, feeling with tears came a sense of shame or disgrace. No, not these tears. He was proud of these tears. It meant he had finally found a way to love someone more than himself.

"Anna," his said quietly. He was relieved to see her eyes flutter open softly, her head turning towards him slowly.

"Hans?" she whispered, the faintest outline of a smile appearing.

"I'm here," he sputtered, masking the pain in his voice.

"You…you came back for me," she breathed, reaching her hand shakily to his face.

"Your sister helped," he admitted. "A lot. She helped a lot, you'd be so proud," Hans smiled, shooting an extra smile in Elsa's direction. Elsa chuckled through her tears, nearing them. "I had to come back. You're the only thing that matters to me."

"Hans," she said, her voice serious, her eyes widening as best as they could. "Hans you have to kiss me," she whimpered. He froze at the familiarity of those words.

"Why?" he asked, although he didn't need a reason, but curious why she would say such a thing, especially something so poignant to both of them.

"Tr-true love's kiss," she reasoned. "You're my true love. It…it's should work this time." Hans felt the tears streaming down his cheeks as he listened to her. How he wished it were that simple, how he wished this was a case of ice in her heart and he could really make things right, once and for all. He bowed his head in despair so she wouldn't see his heartache, placing a few kisses across her knuckles while he tried to gain his composure.

"I'm…I'm afraid a kiss isn't going to heal you this time Anna."

"You…you have to try," she insisted, lifting her head. She didn't have to ask him twice. Hans leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, gently as to not hurt her. Her hand ran up the length of his face and into his hair, gripping on tightly and pulling him closer. She had much more strength than he had realized, so he pressed himself to her closer, the sinking realization that this was most likely going to be their last kiss.

He held onto her, his hand reaching to her chest, her heartbeat, where it rested so he could feel it beat for just a little longer. The kiss ended with tiny, multiple kisses upon her lips, cheeks, nose, forehead. He couldn't suppress the sobs anymore as he leaned his head down atop hers, burying his face in her hair as he gripped her hand tightly. He felt a comforting hand on his back, glancing up to see Elsa, equally gutted, trying her best to offer comfort to Hans

How selfish, she was losing her sister, and yet she was here to comfort him. He pulled himself together wiping away his tear stained cheeks. He glanced down at Anna, who was smiling weakly at them.

"Damn," she lightly teased. "I was sure it would work this time."

"Anna…I can't lose you…I haven't even begun to express to you how much you mean to me," Hans confessed, his voice riddled with sorrow. "How much you've changed me. Your love has made me human. You made this insignificant life worth living. You found a way to love me," he cried, his breath staggered. She reached up once more her cold, clammy hand softly resting upon his cheek. She stared at him with love in her eyes as she gently wiped away a tear.

"You were easy to love, Hans," she whispered. "I'm just so happy that I got to see your face one last time." Hans's head fell upon her chest as heavy sobs jerked through his body. He felt her heartbeat slowing, her breathing lessen.

Until ultimately, it all just stopped and her body turned cold.

Elsa's pained cry ripped through the room, not unlike the moment Anna had frozen in front of their very eyes. Only this time, an act of true love wasn't going to bring her back.

"Am I too late?" a frantic but vaguely familiar voice called form the doorway. Elsa and Hans glanced up through their sorrow, a look of recognition appearing over both of their faces as their jaws dropped open.

Perhaps they had one last chance to keep from losing Anna forever.

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**HOLY MOLY.**

**One last chapter to go! . What a wild ride this has been.**

**I am starting a new fic, but really toying with the idea of continuing this fic into a kind of sequel, but wasn't really sure how much interest there'd be. We shall see! **

**What a painful but fulfilling chapter to write. It was hard, because I didn't want to just rush through it all happening, but I didn't really want to leave you guys in limbo very much longer, either. I always used to look at those necessary filler chapters as deterrents from what I REALLY want to be reading about, which is typically the same for a lot of people I've come to realize.**

**Don't worry! There is still a happy ending in the next chapter.**

**I've started working on some illustrations to go with the story (by that I mean I've done a grand total of ONE.) **

**It's on my Tumblr. Same name: Mogitz. I am still learning how to use it cut me a little slack.**

**As always, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! This story is officially the longest and most successful I've ever written, and I couldn't have done it without your support and eagerness to read my work. You guys really are the best, and I hope I can pull things to a happy conclusion for all of you.**

**One reviewer asked if I can pair Kristoff and Elsa…I was kinda prepping this story for that kind of pairing to occur! And it isn't too far-fetched based on what I have planned.;-) **

**See Ya'll soon! Review if you feel so inclined. (aka you totally should.)**


	23. Bring Back What Once Was Mine

**Chapter 22**

_Bring Back What Once Was Mine_

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><p>"Am I too late?"<p>

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Elsa asked, her eyes as large as saucers. She stood quickly and closed the distance between herself and her beautiful cousin, pulling her in for an embrace, desperately. If she hadn't been so horribly distraught, she would have been happy to see her, but she instantly remembered the gravity of the situation, and without waiting for a response, she uttered, "Rapunzel, Anna's-" She stopped though, choking on her own words, unable to let them escape her lips before she fell against her distant cousin's chest, violent sobs ripping through her once more. She was colder than ice, the jagged ice growing across the cold, marble floor with an audible crackling sound.

"How…how _long_?" Rapunzel swallowed as she simultaneously pried Elsa away from her and hurried over toward the bed. Elsa wobbled a bit, nearly falling from Rapunzel's sudden lack of support. She steadied herself, watching on as Rapunzel rushed the bed, and realized quickly that it wasn't a lack of sympathy, but seemingly more a lack of _time_. Rapunzel's eyes darted to her deceased little cousin, Hans hovering beside her.

"It _just_ happened," Hans whispered, smoothing the princess' hair delicately, tears continuing to pour from his eyes.

"Back up," she demanded, her tone stern.

"But-" Hans began to interject, unwilling to leave Anna's side.

"_Move_ it!" she shouted, pulling on him by the collar upwards and away. He obliged, albeit puzzled by her assertiveness - there was no doubt now that she was related to the fiery and spunky princess that lay before him. He stepped away from the bed, walking over to Elsa and placing a hand sweetly upon her shoulder. Even as little as a few days ago, Elsa surely would have shrugged it off and scrubbed the part of her he'd touched, but she was surprised to find, instead, herself comforted by the gesture. She glanced up at him, equally puzzled, but thankful.

Rapunzel knelt before the princess, her huge eyes studying her intently. She brought her hands to Anna's pale and lifeless face, placing one on each cheek. She leaned in, her face to Anna's, placing a small kiss upon her forehead, ever-so-softly. She let her lips linger for a moment before her face faded into a look of sadness, opening her now-tearful eyes and pulling away slowly.

"Oh Anna," she breathed. "I am so sorry I didn't get here sooner" Her voice wavered with emotion, and then she took in a sharp breath. "I just hope this still works."

"_What_ works?" Hans whispered over to Elsa. She glanced at him for less than a second before her eyes averted back to the scene unfolding before them.

"Shh!" she ordered. The room fell eerily silent…and then…

"_Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine_," Rapunzel sang softly, her voice shaking. Hans and Elsa leaned inward, slowly, trying to hear the princess' soft whispers. "_Let your power shine_." The room suddenly began to glow with a golden, warm light, surrounding the bed. "_Make the clock reverse…"_

"What the-" Hans whispered, his mouth hanging wide open.

"_Shh_!" Elsa hushed once more, her wide eyes watching in amazement.

"_Bring back what once was mine…what once was mine_…" With those words, a single, shimmering tear fell from Rapunzel's eye, landing upon Anna's nose with a faint, delicate _drip_.

The glow turned into a blast. Everything was bright as though it were on fire, the light pouring around the room, filling every dark crevice and corner. It was so bright that Hans and Elsa had to shield their eyes, turning inwardly towards one another. In the midst of the blast, Hans opened his eyes, looking at the queen facing him, her face scrunched, her hair gusting in the burst of wind wildly. And then, as soon as it had started, and yet what felt like an eternity, it all settled, and the room grew silent once more.

Hans turned, peering over towards the bed where Rapunzel still sat on her knees, her breath staggered, her chest slightly heaving. He rushed towards the bed, Elsa right behind him, staring down at Anna. The first thing he noticed was the color that was back in her cheeks, something he'd not seen since he'd last seen her in Arendelle.

The next thing he noticed, even more exciting than the first, was the way her chest was slowly raising and falling, and it took a moment to process the fact that the princess was, indeed, _alive_. Elsa clutched her hand to her heart as the realization set in, a sharp, loud gasp escaping her lips.

"How did- wh-_what_?" he stuttered, the pure astonishment painting his face. He lunged forward, his hand falling upon Anna's chest, feeling for the sweet, comforting beat of her heart. When he found it, he could hardly contain his own heart; he felt as though it may burst right then and there. He leaned his head down, pressing his ear to her warm, moving chest. Music to his ears.

_ Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub dub…_

"I-I-I… can't _believe_ it," Elsa breathed, her eyes filled with tears of joy as she looked down at her baby sister, breathing on her own. Her eyes then fell to Rapunzel, staring back up at her with a warm, bashful smile. Without warning, Elsa flung herself at her older cousin violently, hugging her as tightly as humanly possible. She pulled her away, unable to shake the excitement. "Why did _you_ get the good powers?" she asked hysterically through tears, walking the line between laughing and sobbing.

"How did you know Anna _was_…I mean, how did you know to come _here_?" Hans asked, at Anna's side upon the bed once more, holding her hand in his, which was now peachy and warm and full of life.

"I got a letter-" Rapunzel shrugged, tucking a chunk of her dark hair behind her ear.

"From _who_?" Elsa asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"From _me_," a voice rang from the doorway. Their eyes followed the voice to be greeted by Kristoff, standing in the doorway awkwardly, his gaze unable to meet theirs in return.

"Kristoff, I thought you left!" Elsa breathed. "And how did you even know?" He cleared his throat, taking a step into the room.

"Yeah, so…Anna told me about her cousin Rapunzel that she met at your coronation and about how she'd told her about her healing powers. When I heard she was sick…" his words trailed off with very little confidence to continue his sentence. Kristoff shifted uncomfortably from their eyes upon him, before he finally looked up at their thankful, awestruck faces. "Okay, can you guys just…stop looking at me like that? It's weird. And creepy."

Elsa rose, crossing the room slowly, her eyes fixated on the bashful and humble mountain man. She neared him, paused for a moment, as if unsure how to proceed. She finally stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and hoisting herself up, placing a soft kiss upon his cheek. She broke away from him, trying not to notice the goofy smile or the redness in his cheeks.

"You saved her _life_, Kristoff," she whispered, her eyes deep pools of gratitude.

"No, I just wrote a letter. Rapunzel saved her life," he stated humbly. "Anyways, I figured it was a long shot…I didn't expect you to make it in time, honestly," his eyes finding the tiny brunette still crouched beside the bed.

"I came as soon as I heard," she said, standing.

"When…is she going to wake up?" Hans asked, his attentions tuned back towards the unconscious princess. As if on cue, Anna began to stir, her eyes opening slowly.

"Hans," she breathed, a smile spreading clean across her round face. He leaned down close to her, taking her hand in his and placing a kiss upon it.

"Hi," he whispered, his smile uncontrollable at this point. "Welcome back."

"Did I ever leave?" she asked, her voice bright again, her face vibrant.

"You are never leaving again," Elsa ordered, nearing her sister and falling down upon her, Anna uttering an involuntary '_oomph_!'

"Elsa, get _off_!" Anna groaned through giggles, a quick flashback of all the times she'd climbed upon her slumbering sister when they were little rushing back to her.

_ Ya wanna build a snowman_?

Anna glanced up and met Hans' loving and appreciative gaze, then around at the smiling and relieved faces, so much love in one room.

And they were all in the same room.

And there was no ice, or frost…not even a chill.

"What happened?" she asked, her eyes darting from face to face. "And how did you get out of the hospital?" she added, staring suspiciously at her love.

"Elsa got me out," Hans stated simply, looking down at the Queen with a grin, who smiled back in return. Anna's eyes widened.

"You did that? For _me_?" Anna asked, lovingly stroking her sister's face.

"I love you," Elsa responded. "And it came with a heavy cost, too. I have to take this _criminal_ back to Arendelle with us, apparently he's _my_ responsibility now…" Elsa said, a tease in her tone. Hans chuckled, and Anna beamed.

"You get to come home with me? I mean, with _us_?" she stammered, as though they were discussing a stray puppy they'd found in the street. Her eyes fell back to her sister. "And you're _letting_ him?

"It appears so," Elsa said.

"Jeeze, how long was I out!?" Anna asked rhetorically, trying her best not to burst into giddy laughter. "Or… is this Heaven? Are you sure I came back?"

"You're back alright. But, I didn't really have much of a choice," Elsa sighed, although it was becoming increasingly clear that she didn't care half as much as she'd thought she would. "King Elias stripped him of his title and demanded I take him to Arendelle in return for his approval to remove him from the institution…what choice did I have?"

"I know it couldn't have been an easy one," Anna swallowed.

"It's getting easier," Elsa admitted. "But to answer your question…you _did_ die, Anna. Luckily, Kristoff wrote Rapunzel weeks ago and she just got here in time to help heal you. Which reminds me!" she exclaimed, her voice raising. "Why didn't you tell me that Rapunzel has healing powers?"

"You never asked," Anna shrugged, shooting a sly look at her cousin. "Thank you, Rapunzel. You came all this way…"

"That's what family is for. Now, if I could just get you two to visit…" she laughed.

"And _you_," Anna's eyes found Kristoff, and he slunk under her narrowing gaze. "Get over here," she ordered with a smile. She pulled herself up with ease, more strength and energy than she could remember having in quite some time. She pulled herself loose from Elsa and Hans' simultaneous grips on her and got out of bed, her feet finding the floor with ease. She lurched towards him before she pulled him in for a tight hug, glancing up at him through long lashes. "Thank you," she said quietly, standing on her tiptoes and placing a kiss upon his cheek. "I will never be able to repay you."

"There's nothing to repay," he said, cracking a smile at the princess. "It was just the right thing to do." He glanced up at their watching eyes, uncomfortable by the attention once more. "_Anyways_, if you'll excuse me…I have a ship back to Arendelle to catch in a few hours, so… I'm gonna go," he announced. Anna reached from him as he pulled away, her face worried.

"Kristoff, wait!" she called. He turned towards her once more.

"What? What is it?" Anna bit her lip nervously, wringing her hands together.

"Can… we come, too?" she asked hopefully, wrinkling her nose. "I wanna go home," she laughed, a huge exhale escaping her lips. Elsa slinked up beside her sister, draping her arm lovingly around her shoulder.

"Yes," Elsa sighed, equally relieved. "Let's go home…" She peered over her shoulder at Hans, watching them from afar, his crooked, half-smile reminiscent of the first time she'd ever met him. Harmless. Selfless. Flawed, but trying. "All of us," she added, her hand reaching out, extended towards the forgotten and denounced price. Only a few hours and he would be rid of this place for good, minus a couple of small pit stops on his way out.

And as he looked at the waiting eyes, on _him_ this time, he saw the promise of his future…his family. He vowed then and there that his sole purpose in his new life was to protect these people, who'd each gone out of their way to protect or help him, even though he didn't deserve their forgiveness _or_ redemption. They'd saved him. He'd spend eternity returning the favor.

He reached forward and took Elsa's waiting hand.

_ And it wasn't even cold._

* * *

><p>"Enter," King Elias' loud, booming voice came from the other side of his study door. The door cracked open and Hans entered, standing taller than he usually demonstrated in his brother's presence. The king glanced him, his glare turning dark and a scoff escaping his lips. "What are you doing here?" he asked, peering back down at his work. "I thought I told that frigid queen to take you off my hands, or <em>else<em>."

"I came to say something."

"I don't associate with commoners," he hissed, before glancing up at him, the words he'd uttered registering in his own mind. "Isn't that poetic?" he mused, "you're finally, _truly_ a commoner. Like your mother." Hans gulped down the urge to scream, shout, bellow, anything. He wanted nothing more than to destroy his brother, but it would do no good.

_ It will only land me in the sanitarium again. Shut up, Hans. You're still on his soil._

"I came to say goodbye," Hans reiterated, his head up high and his gaze intense. "And thank you," he added, bowing. Elias' curiosity piqued and he faced his youngest brother, leaning back in his chair, casually.

"What for?" he asked, his tone suspicious and his eyebrows low. Hans cleared his throat, suddenly unsure if he should continue. Did he do it? Did he tell his brother everything he wanted to before he left? Did he tell him how his years of torment and ridicule helped play a specific role in his fall from grace?

"Thank you for allowing me to leave the sanitarium," he began.

"Well, it was win/win, actually. You're Arendelle's problem now. Seems like poetic justice, doesn't? Going back to the place you tried to overthrow with a queen that hates you? Your precious princess, dead…" he chuckled darkly. Hans smirked, shaking his head.

"You're _wrong_," he challenged.

"_Excuse_ me?" The King growled, standing to appear more menacing and intimidating than before. "_What_ did you say?"

"I said, you're wrong," Hans repeated simply. "Elsa does not hate me, not _anymore_ at least. And Princess Anna? She's _alive_," he clarified. The King's face twisted into a scowl, clearly unhappy that Hans was going to get somewhat of a happy ending after all.

"And what, pray tell, is it you have to thank me for?"

"For stripping me of my title. For helping me realize what is really important in life…and how I never, ever want to be," he said quietly but with a punch. "Because even as the lowest commoner, I am still happier and better than you, oh wondrous King Elias." Elias slammed his fist down on his desk, as a toddler would throw a tantrum. Hans didn't flinch, relishing the feeling of crawling around under his brother's skin.

"I suggest you get out before I change my mind," Elias glowered, seething. Hans strode over to the door, a perpetual smile on his face. He'd lost almost everything, but for once in his life, he'd felt like he'd won.

"Oh, Elias. We both know you don't have any _real_ power. Ceremonial monarchy, remember?" he snickered, leaving the King's study, satisfied that the last look he'd ever have of his brother was a look of defeat.

* * *

><p>Marguerite had cried, but it was a decent dose of happy and sad tears. Hans was certain that he'd never received so many kisses in his life, the way she fussed all over him when she saw him walk into the kitchen to say his goodbye.<p>

"You know, I am sure they'd love a chef like you in Arendelle."

"But who would take care of the rest of the Westergaard brats?" she reasoned. She relented though, offering to visit if she ever got the chance. Hans knew, deep down in his heart, that he would most likely never see her sweet, round, happy face again. And it hurt, but at the same time, he knew that some bonds never broke, even with distance and time. He'd never forget her and all the love and lessons she'd given him.

"You _know_, none of this could have happened without you," Hans sighed, holding her tightly to his chest. "You made all of this possible in so many ways, all that true love nonsense." he said, kissing the top of her head lovingly.

"Didn't turn out to be such nonsense afterall, did it Hansy?"

_ Hansy_.

He never realized he might miss that name. Perhaps Anna would adopt it… His gaze caught Edvard's; he gave him a simple nod.

"And _you_. I will miss you, brother. Out of the twelve remaining Westergaard sons, you are surely the best. I hope I can be like you, one day.

"Oh Hans, you sell yourself short. You already are. Maybe the best of all of us," Edvard complimented, rewarding his brother with a strong pat on the back. "I will surely be visiting you in Arendelle soon; I've never been, I hear it's lovely."

And that was about it for the goodbyes.

He'd never get to revisit the place he called home, and while it was sad, it was also a bit….refreshing.

That new life, the one he'd set out for months ago, the one he saw in the eyes of a beautiful girl, had all been restored to him, and he didn't even falter in realizing that it was she and she alone that made this all possible. She was his light, his purpose. She was the worst yet best thing that had ever happened to him. The plucky, insatiable drive to redeem him was what he hated about her at first, but realized was his reason for loving her.

Hans stood on the back of the ship, watching the Southern Isles pass him by. He had the clothes on his back and a few carriable possessions, but other than that he was the stark and bare version of himself that he'd longed to be. He wasn't even sad that he was no longer Prince Hans; the title that only seemed to weigh him down.

The air was cold, practically arctic, but nothing in comparison to the winters he would now need to get used to in Arendelle. It was no matter; he loved that Kingdom, and he hoped it was just as warm and welcoming as it had been before.

_ Goodbye, Southern Isles. Goodbye, Prince Hans._

He thought somberly to himself. Goodbye torment. Goodbye past.

_ Say goodbye to the pain of the past, we don't have to feel it anymore… _

It was _over_, and something about that comforted him rather than terrified him; although was quite scared about what lie ahead of him. He was a man now. Just a man, but a man, nonetheless.

"Think you'll miss it?" A voice rang from behind, interrupting Hans' thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder to see Anna standing behind him, a sweet, toothless grin on her face. And for a moment he saw her exactly like he did the day he met her; on the docks of Arendelle, finding herself lost in his eyes with that goofy, adorable grin. She was bundled in her purple cloak, her mittened hands clasped together in front of her. He couldn't help but smile at how lucky he was, just to have her once more.

He turned his body towards her, his back to the Southern Isles, which was slowly and thoroughly fading away in the distance. He reached a gloved hand out, extended towards the lovely princess; _his_ princess. She blushed slightly - _oh_, how he'd missed the color on those cheeks. She eagerly took his hand and he roughly pulled her into him, flush against his chest. She stared up at him, her big, oceanic eyes shining brighter than ever. He reached down, carefully tucking her vibrant hair behind her ear and away from her face, revealing her soft, delicate neck to the chilly, sea air. He leaned his head down, laying a kiss upon her exposed skin. She leaned in towards him, happily feeling his warm breath on her neck.

"I didn't really like The Southern Isles that much, anyways," he said lightly into the crook of her neck, trailed by another kiss.

"Are you going to miss being a _prince_?" she clarified, an amused smirk on her cherry-red lips. He stood up, staring into her eyes once more.

"Am I going to miss being the forgotten, 13th prince?" he mused, his fingertips grazing her collarbone, much more interested in her than the conversation at hand. She nodded, her eyes sympathetically expectant. He shrugged a bit. "Well, here's the thing," he said, his hand lightly trailing along her lower back, a wry smile on his face. Even through the various layers, Anna couldn't help but shudder at his delicate touch, especially now that she was alive enough to truly appreciate it.

"What's the thing?" she purred, her eyes heavily lidded as she stared up at the man she was crazy about, intoxicated on this moment, warm and safe in his arms.

"I hear…and this is just what I hear, so don't shoot the messenger…"

"_Yeah_?"

"That if a commoner_, _like _me,_ marries a princess, like _you_…he gets the title of _prince_…" he hummed through a cocky but enticing half-smile, feigning surprise.

"Marrying me for a title again, are you, _Hansy_?" she teased, an eyebrow cocked. Hansy. Yes. He liked the way it fell off of her tongue so much more, almost erotic. A term of endearment.

"I didn't say anything about marriage, did I?" he asked suddenly. Anna laid a gentle smack on his shoulder.

"_Hans_," she warned. "You _just_ said if a commoner marries-"

"Oh boy, what did I get myself into. You know, I just don't know if I'm ready for that kind of commitment. Do you think it's too late to ask the captain to turn back?" he muttered, trying in vain to keep a straight face. "Although it would be nice to be have a title again…"

"But…is that title ever going to be good enough for you, _Prince Hans _? I know you have this king complex to feed," she mused. His eyes intensified, his mischievous smile growing into that of a more genuine, love-filled grin.

"I would be farmer Hans if it meant I had _you_ to roll around in the stables with," he laughed.

"_Oh_, that's not even close to true," she snorted, blushing at the imagery, imagining him with hay in his hair, her nose crinkling at the thought. Then, she let a loud '_ha'_ burst from her lips at the mere image of Hans plowing a field. _Insanity_.

"I _would_!" he defended, feigning offense. "It is all I pictured in that dungeon…running off with you and living on a farm…with chickens and dogs and horses," he listed, playing with the ends of her fiery hair. He bowed his head a bit, sheepishly. "maybe a few dozen _children_…" he murmured. Her eyes widened farther than she ever thought possible.

"_Children_!?" she exclaimed, nearly choking on the words. "I, uh,-" she sputtered nervously. Surprisingly, it wasn't the word _dozen_ that scared her This was a man from a family of thirteen, after all. "You _know_, for someone so concerned about marriage commitment, you sure have planned out our future pretty intricately," she thought aloud. He laughed again, leaning down and pressing a kiss into her hair, his grip on her tightening as he hugged her closely to him.

"Oh Anna," he sighed. "If only there was someone who wanted to marry you," he teased. She glanced up at him, her eyes narrowed. "That's not funny yet? No?"

"You are _pushing_ it," she glowered.

"Ok fine," he said, letting out an exaggerated sigh. 'It's me. _I_ want to marry you."

"That's better," she smirked, happily.

"So, will you?" he asked, his smile fading.

"Will I what?" she asked, her tone sudden taking a serious turn.

"Will you marry me?" Anna said nothing, her eyes watching him with incredible certainty. "I love you, Anna. You have saved me, over and over again. I cannot imagine my life without you…and although I have this sneaking suspicion that you feel the same about me…" he uttered, his hand finding her bare and round check, "I want to be with you forever."

Anna opened her mouth to speak, then closed it once more. She couldn't help but think she looked like a fish. Hans' gaze was unwavering, although it was getting harder to await her answer without feeling like fool.

"I'll think about it," Anna finally uttered, coolly.

"What?" he exclaimed. "Anna, after everything-"

"You know, you're not as smart as you look," Anna chuckled. "Was there ever any other answer than yes?" she asked. Hans sighed, pulling her in tightly, his lips finding hers with ease.

What life awaited him? He wasn't sure.

All he knew, was that it was better than anything he'd ever imagined for himself.

**The End...**

**...or is it?**

* * *

><p><strong>an**

**Wow. The End.**

**I am not going to lie to ya'll….I don't want it to be. Not going to lie, my heart hurts having to end this.  
><strong>

**I have the basic outline of a continuation plot, one that might involve some more…adult themes and material, you just gotta say the word.**

**Leave me a review if you're interested in a continuation and I will heed your request. **

**I hope you enjoyed this half as much as I enjoyed writing it. **

**Thank you all for your support and love, I could NOT have done this all without you. Thank you thank you thank you. **

**But really.. I feel like this story is NOT over.**

**Xoxoxoxoox**

**Morgan**


	24. The End: Sequel Link

**The Torn Prince:**

**Complete**

_**BIG thank you all for reading and your awesome support! **_

_**I decided to continue The Torn Prince into a sequel of sorts, and I am posting this last page to redirect you to the new story.**_

_**Here is the new story title: **_The Torn Prince II : Return to Arendelle (What is it about that won't let us upload links?)

_**Again, thank you all so much for everything! Hope you continue to enjoy my work!**_

_**P.S. **_

_**Follow me on Tumblr! I've been posting original artwork that correlates with the story.**_

_**Tumblr Username: Mogitz**_


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